#he uses against and about bobby skyrockets | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsetcurvecuddles · 4 years ago

Note

Ok but imagine the boys being so free with touching each other that Alex doesn't even realize what effect he has on Willie when he plays with Willie's hair or brushes their pinkies together or hooks their ankles together under the table or drapes his arm around Willie's shoulder or or or

i’ve been crying over this ask ever since you sent it to me so have this. touch-starved willie but not the i can’t stop asking verse. just something very adjacent. whatever. no one told monet not to paint more water lillies.

Look, maybe Alex used to overthink touching the boys, when he was younger, when he was still trying to figure out what him being gay meant for that friendship - but Luke didn’t let those nerves last long, cuddled Alex every single damn day after he came out, like he was proving a point, stubborn and bull-headed as ever, until Reggie and Bobby followed his lead.

And when Alex’s anxiety skyrockets, his first red flag is that his skin feels wrong because he doesn’t want his boys to touch him.

But usually, when things are good, it’s so natural, for Alex, maybe the only thing he doesn’t overthink. To touch the boys, to have them touch him, is easy as breathing, flows like water.

So he doesn’t think, usually. He just reaches out, and they meet him in the middle - an arm around a waist, a hand against a shoulder, fingers running through each other’s hair or linking together or brushing a cheek. Reggie always flushes a little pinker, Luke grins a little wider, Bobby used to duck his head and grumble but push back against Alex, betraying himself.

Willie’s not that different. Like, obviously, he’s different, Alex feels little sparks along his arms every time he touches Willie, and a warmth that settles in his non-existent ghost-sensation bones that’s all totally different. It’s just that when Willie’s around more, after Caleb’s gone, Alex can’t help treating him like he treats the other people he lo--cares about. It’s almost absent-minded, almost muscle memory, the way he reaches out to push Willie’s hair out of his face, or link their pinkies when they’re walking, or to generally want Willie closer to him when they all crash Julie and Flynn’s after-school diner date (much to Julie’s irritation and Flynn’s amusement).

He feels like an idiot, when he links his ankle with Willie’s, and Willie’s eyes widen, he tenses, where he’s sitting pressed into the corner of the booth, Flynn on his other side. Alex feels his stomach drop. Quickly pulls his foot back.

Willie’s expression goes through a range of things, and he looks away, chews his lip. Alex has seen that expression before. Embarrassment. No - shame.

Luke is trying to bite through a chip. He can pick it up, but every time he tries to split it in half with his teeth, he just phases through. Flynn is muffling her laughter into her hand, Reggie’s laughing outright, and Julie’s trying to half-shield Luke with her body so passers-by don’t see a floating chip. And Willie won’t look at Alex.

It’s cool, Alex tells himself. He gets it. It was too much in front of their friends, or too much in general, he’s been totally desensitised by the boys (especially Luke, man, this is all Luke’s fault), and he somehow hadn’t noticed Willie reacting, and maybe Willie hates being touched but had done it because Alex obviously, blatantly needed it, or because -

Willie kicks him, very gently, with the toe of his shoe. When Alex looks up, Willie shoots him a grin, somewhere between rueful and affectionate and amused. Stop thinking so hard, he mouths.

Alex takes a breath. Willie doesn’t look mad. Or like he thinks Alex is desperate and pathetic, or whatever other mean words his anxiety had conjured out of the ether in the five seconds he left it unsupervised. Willie mimics the breath, and then takes a deeper one, and Alex follows along. Tries to put it out of his head for the rest of their time in the diner, tries to focus on the boys being idiots and Julie and Flynn chatting about kids from school. Willie pitches in terrible advice, seems for all intents and purposes to be his usual self, so Alex focuses on his breathing until the cold dread is sorta gone from his stomach again.

“What was that about earlier?” he asks Willie, finally, later that night when he can catch him alone. They’re outside the studio - the others have already filed inside, and Alex can’t tell if Julie hurried the others to give them some space, but he has his suspicions. “If something I’m doing has been bothering you, why wouldn’t you tell me?”

Willie’s face screws up, like he really doesn’t want to have this conversation, but Alex knows how that’s played out for them in the past. “It’s not that I don’t like it,” he says, and adds defensively, “really!” when Alex raises an eyebrow at him. Willie’s arms cross over his torso and he takes a step back from Alex, which hurts Alex way, way worse than Alex would like it to. “I just... I’m not used to it, okay? It’s not bad, it’s just so new for me.”

Well. Now Alex feels like an enormous idiot. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.” Swallows, tries to think. “I can back off?” he adds, in a much higher-pitched voice than he meant to.

“No, no,” Willie says, and moves forward again. Alex almost reaches for his arm, and then stops himself. Then does it anwyay, because Willie just told him not to back off. Willie shudders a little when Alex runs a hand up his arm. “See? It just makes me act weird, and I thought the others might see-”

“They wouldn’t care,” Alex promises, and he doesn’t have to overthink that, either. “I know they wouldn’t. Especially not Luke and Reg. They’re like me.”

Not Luke, who is ready to bolt the moment someone’s mad at him and needs to be touched every five minutes or he starts to panic that no one loves him, or Reggie, who cowers at any loud noise and needs to be touched to even feel like he exists. Not Julie, even, who had barely been able to take her hands off them for a moment when they finally became tangible, like she was scared the second she let go they would disappear.

Least of all Alex, who hid things until he was choking on them. Can’t hide how much he loves touch, when he’s feeling safe and calm.

“It just feels like so much,” Willie manages. “It’s not bad. It’s just so much. Maybe I just need more exposure.”

Alex looks at him for a long moment, takes in the uncertainty plain on his face, the way he’s still got his arms crossed tight, his thumb digging into his inner elbow, the way he had flinched at the restaurant. Tries to remember how it felt to hold himself away from the boys for the few months before he came out. How it felt when Luke was all over him, right after, the jittery oversensitivity coupled with waterfalls of relief. How it only got better with time, and touch, and love, and the boys’ patience.

He can give those things to Willie, he thinks.

“Can I hug you?” he asks, and his voice has a raw edge. Willie nods, lips pressed tight together like he’s scared of what will come out if he opens them. So Alex gives him the tightest hug he can muster. Willie shudders, a full-body release, and then holds him back.

For a moment they just stand like that, warm in each other’s arms. Alex rests his chin on the top of Willie’s head and runs one hand down his back, and up again.

“Exposure?” he checks, after who knows how long. “Is it working?”

“I don’t know,” Willie answers. He sounds a little better. “Think I’ll need a little longer to be sure. Maybe the next 48 business hours.” Yeah, much better.

“That can be arranged,” Alex agrees, even though it absolutely can’t, and is rewarded by Willie’s giggle, still a little wet, but so much more like himself. “Let’s at least arrange it on the couch, okay?”

Willie glances inside the studio, and Alex feels him hesitate. “They don’t care,” he promises Willie again. “They get it.”

This time Willie nods. Alex takes his hand, and they go inside together.

jatp taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @joyandthephantoms @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @burntchromas

see more prompt fills here

#willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie #my fic #not touch starved willie... my kryptonite....#queenofthequillandink

287 notes · View notes

buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

Text

v e l o c i t y - chapter ii

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. It’s being constantly updated

John’s P.O.V.

God fucking damn it. Just what the hell was going on back in Bobby’s house and why the hell wasn’t he picking up the phone?

For the first time since I left her behind, I found myself considering I should have at least given my omega - no, not my omega, just Y/N - enough attention to ask her for her number. At least it would have been handy in a time like this one, where my heart was pumping loudly, shortening my breathing, and making it difficult for me to focus. I just wanted to know what was going on, but there was no way I could tap into an unfulfilled bond to see what had scared Y/N so badly.

A sharp pang in my stomach had me abruptly turning the impala around and returning to the direction we had left behind two weeks before, much to the boys’ surprise. I made sure to ignore their open mouths and raised eyebrows, but I should know better than to hope that they’d quietly accept this change of plans.

“Where are we going?” Dean asked, while Sam rubbed off the sleep from his face.

“Back to Bobby’s,” I barked, and I knew that my tone didn’t allow for any follow-up questions. Still, Dean couldn’t help himself. He had been (sometimes not so) subtly teasing me about the girl, making jokes about how I probably wouldn’t even be able to handle the needs of a young body, anything to get a reaction from me.

“Forgot something there?” I knew what he was implying, and even though it couldn’t be further from the truth, I couldn’t find it in myself to explain just yet. Terror made my heartbeat clear and quick on my ears, and I hated it. It wasn’t a feeling that was familiar, but considering it truly belonged to someone else, it was just beyond irritating.

“Something like that.”

Stepping on the pedal as I was once again flooded with a panic that didn’t belong to me, I found myself praying I’d be able to make it there in time to stop whatever the hell was going on. To whom I was praying, I didn’t know, just as I couldn’t explain why the hell I cared.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I squeezed my knees tighter to my body, trying to make myself smaller while attempting to control my breathing at the same time. It wasn’t easy, especially since my heartbeat was all over the place.

At least the screaming has subdued. Although that did little to appease my concern, it did help in my task of hiding in this safe room inside the empty basement. Just before Bobby managed to shove me in here, the last thing he told me was to keep quiet and still until someone came to get me, but now that his voice had been gone for a while and he still hadn’t reappeared, I doubted anyone would come looking for me.

Still, I couldn’t find it in myself to uncurl my body from this somewhat calm-inducing position and actually step out of the room to go explore the house. Not when I could still remember so clearly what I found when my dad was murdered. And I couldn’t see the same done with Bobby. I just couldn’t. Not when that meant that I was completely alone, with no one to worry about me in this entire world.

Tears rose, prompting me to blink them away, scared that once I allowed myself to grieve, I wouldn’t be able to stop. This wasn’t the time or the place. My life could very well still be in danger. And I couldn’t let Bobby’s… disappearance be for nothing. No. He put himself at risk for me, I’d abide by his wishes.

First things first, I’d stay right here, not moving a muscle. If nothing came to find me, then I’d slowly make my way out of this hiding spot… once I deemed it was safe enough to do so.

But for now, there wasn’t much I could do, other than focus on my breathing and keep quiet. Real quiet. And watch time slowly go by. Praying that if something did come to find me, it would come in with a friendly face.

John’s P.O.V.

“Shit.” It was all I said as I barely managed to park the car right outside Bobby’s place before leaping out of it. It was pretty obvious something had happened over here, if not by the fact that the front door was slammed open, at least by the tracks of something that had been dragged over the front lawn, looking too much like a body not to make every single nerve end on my body stand to attention again.

At least I was feeling something again, and even if it was from my own system and not hers, I considered it a good sign. Halfway through the drive the panic that had been steadily building had completely disappeared, and I almost believed, if only for a second, something had happened to her - only to realize that if someone had killed my mate, I would have definitely known.

I still didn’t want to think about her as being my mate, but the existence of this connection between us was undeniable, especially as I bursted into the house, gun in my hand, to find blood fucking everywhere. The feelings of worry skyrocketed - I wanted to attribute them to her, but I knew they were mine. Just what the fuck had happened here and where the fuck was her?

I could hear the boys walking around the house behind me. I couldn’t give them any attention. My mind was occupied with her and only her, needing to know that she was safe, almost desperate to know where the heck she was.

Bobby was a smart man. If he had noticed even an inkling of something going South, he’d have found a way to protect her. I just had to figure out what it was. Gun still in hand, although it was pretty clear that whatever it was that had been here had left long ago, I encircled the sofa and started to make my way down to the basement, remembering a conversation I’d had with Bobby one of the many times I came to visit.

“There’s an old closet in the back of the room downstairs,” he’d said. “It’d make for a good panic room, if I ever ended up having something I needed to keep safe.” Despite never having seen it, it wasn’t too hard to find it once I managed to turn on the lights. It really was made to be imperceptible for someone who wasn’t looking for it, but since that wasn’t my case, the difference in the wood texture of the walls sorely jumped out to my eyes, and I reached out to curve the barely existent nail of my thumb on the indentation until I was able to pull it open.

And there she was.

She was asleep, head resting on her knees, tucked away into the corner of the closet-sized room. A sigh of relief fell out of my mouth before I could reel it in, my heart clenching at the adorable sight before I snapped myself out of it. Fuck, no. This wasn’t any sentimental mate shit. This was me, worried about another living human being - one that had been placed under my friend’s care after having lost her entire family. That was all there was to it.

Still, I was careful when I reached out to put a hand on top of her, hoping it would suffice to pull her from her slumber. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for that fucking connection to call out at the feeling of her skin under my calloused fingers, her eyes snapping open in shock and her mouth opening in clear intent to scream her lungs out.

“Shhhh… It’s just me. Shut the fuck up,” I groaned, one hand clasped over her mouth as I pulled her up with me and drag us out of the panic room. From the corner of my eye, I could see the boys had caught on to what had happened, and were clearly relieved to see her safe, despite the lack of indication as to where Bobby could be.

After the initial shock, she finally stopped mumbling against my palm and took a deep breath, probably taking in the reality of the situation. It was just us. No immediate danger around.

I don’t think she even noticed when I slipped out from behind her, finally uncovering her mouth so I could try to understand what the hell had happened around here. The lack of contact between our skin, however, was sorely felt by my alpha genes, that begged me to look for her softness again, keep it close to me.

“Bobby?” Just that question made it clear we wouldn’t be getting much answers from her. Before I could say anything, Dean shook his head with an apologetic smile, and despite her falling down on a couch nearby, much to my surprise, she didn’t start crying or screaming again. If anything, she took the news (or lack of them) with quiet resignation, something that intrigued me to no end.

She’d lost everything, but instead of behaving like some poor little omega, she just accepted that this was her life now.

“Didn’t you hear anything?” I finally asked, and had to suppress a smug grin when her eyes immediately snapped up to meet mine, easily abandoning Dean’s gaze.

“Screams. But I couldn’t make out what was being said, it just seemed…” She hesitated then, like she needed to gather some strength to keep talking about it, but still, she pushed through. “It just seemed like they were torturing him, you know? It didn’t last long, but it was…”

She didn’t need to say it, it was easy to understand. Haunting. Devastating. I can’t imagine how it must have been like to be stuck in that spot, desperately wanting to help - because I knew it had been the case, I could feel it through our… bond, as nonexistent as it was - and being absolutely terrified about what could be waiting on the other side.

I had the overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around her, feel her body against mine again and comfort her mind with my presence. It was so strong, in fact, that I had to bury my fingernails in my palms in order to stop myself from doing that, but since the urge remained, I distracted my animalistic side with some practical tasks that needed to be dealt with.

“Okay, let’s get the hell out of here. Sam, did you pack her stuff?” Knowing my youngest had gone up to the second floor and was easily the most prepared out of all of us, it didn’t surprise me when he answered by simply holding up a duffel in his hands. “Alright, then let’s hit the road.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Taken by surprise and ripped from my admittedly dark thoughts, I whipped around to stare at the older man who looked like this was just another ordinary day, like he hadn’t just very clearly tried to alter the course of my existence. But instead of providing me with any sort of explanation, he just reached out for my arm and pulled me from the couch, dragging me all the way to the main floor of the house and out of it before I was able to speak again.

“Stop! Hold on!” I managed to release my wrist from his grip, but I don’t think he would have even realized I was speaking if it weren’t from the sudden lack of contact between our bodies.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The omega in me wanted to recoil at the sight of her alpha looking at us with such anger, but he wasn’t our alpha. And he definitely had no right to come here and take control of my life like I had no say in the matter whatsoever.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shot back, and his mouth hung open in surprise. It almost made me feel smug about myself, knowing I had the power to shock the great John Winchester, who thought he was too good to become someone’s mate, but I was too angry to even acknowledge that. “You can’t just come in here and take me away, that’s not how it works.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe.” From the little I knew of him, considering our limited encounters and the stories Bobby and other hunters had told me about, I knew he was a man of few words, but even my irate state of mind could identify the warning bells on the way he uttered that simple sentence, paired with the sight of the veins on his forearms as he clenched his hands into fists.

Still, I pressed on.

“Who gave you that responsibility? Bobby was my godfather, my father trusted him, I know next to nothing about you. In fact, I want to keep knowing next to nothing about you. Just the same as you want when it comes to me, I’m certain.”

Waves of anger radiated from him, and even Sam and Dean seemed tense from a distance, where they stood by the car, watching our altercation. Guess seeing their dad this furious wasn’t as usual as I figured it would be, considering the Alpha inside of him.

“Why is it so hard for you to just obey? Get inside the car. I’m not gonna ask you again.” Of course, he could have made me obey, if he wanted to. One order from their alpha and any omega would fall to their knees, the genetic pull too strong to ignore. But he didn’t use his alpha voice, he used his John voice, and if at first that surprised me, believing it to be from a place of respect, the realization that it was most likely because he didn’t want to recognize that our bond even existed only filled me with even more anger.

“I am not getting in that car with you.” I braced myself for what he could do, trying to harden my soul so it wouldn’t hurt to see him leave - that’s what I wanted, right? - while also preparing to fight if he finally relented and took advantage of his manipulation power, but there was just no way I could anticipate him shortening the distance between us and easily throwing me over his shoulder like I was nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

John’s P.O.V.

Fucking stupid ‘mega. Is she actively trying to get herself killed? Everyone around her has died in the last few months, what makes her think she can survive on her own? Why the fuck couldn’t she just be a good fucking girl and obey me? I hated that I had to resort to this, I hated having to touch her again, and especially have her over my shoulder, where I could feel the smell of her hair as it fighted against the wind and she tried to punch my back.

I grunted as I deposited her on the copilot seat, immediately locking the door so she wouldn’t be able to run away. The boys took their places in the backseat while I made my way to the driver’s seat, and although Dean didn’t look all that happy to be confined back there, it couldn’t come close to the burning expression with which she regarded me.

“Don’t you look at me like that,” I growled. “You’re coming and that’s final.”

“You don’t want me! Why are you taking me with you?” She was nearly yelling by then, arms waving around like a lunatic, and I had to to grind my teeth together so I wouldn’t reach out and…

I don’t know what I wanted to do, to be honest. I just knew that my head was pounding and I could still fill the weight of her body over my shoulder, like her skin had burned the fabric of my shirt and imprinted the shape of her body on my soul.

“You must be really fucking stupid if you think I’m gonna leave you out there, all alone.” That, thank the lord, was enough to shut her up, but I figured out pretty soon that she didn’t need to open her mouth to find new ways to annoy me.

“Driver picks the music,” I warned, lightly slapping her hand when she reached for the radio, but the infuriating little thing only slapped mine back and changed the station anyway.

“Maybe on a road trip. If you don’t want this to be recognized as a kidnapping, it’s the least you can do.” God, she was infuriating. I clenched my hands on the wheel, mulling the words I wanted to say over my head and I still wasn’t able to stop the threat from spilling.

“I swear to God, I’m not above pulling over and spanking you until you’re not able to walk for a whole week.” The second her eyes met mine, I knew trouble was coming my way, and still I was unprepared when the next words fell from her lips.

“And you think that’s punishment?” I couldn’t help it, the question provoked me into thoughts I definitely did not want to be having about her, my ears burning up as I realized that she could very easily read my reactions to figure out what was going on through my head - especially since my eyes automatically trailed over her body.

“You know what? I changed my mind. Take me wherever you’d like.” And with that, she threw one leg over the other, a dangerous smile taking over her face. “I think you and I are gonna have a lot of fun together, John Winchester.”

#my series #john winchester angst #john winchester #angst #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #john winchester fanfiction #john winchester fan fic

133 notes · View notes

justaswampdemon · 3 years ago

Text

The Place You Need To Reach

Finally finished the first chapter of a Buck Begins fic I started...when the episode airs...Biggest of shoutouts to @marjansmarwani for the title help and also all the support and encouragement. You’re the best!

Read it here on AO3

Bobby’s phone rings loud from the night table, waking him with a start. Looking at the clock he groans, 12:45am glaring at him. Whatever irritation he feels is quickly overridden by Captain Mode. He reaches for his phone, already concerned. It skyrockets to worry when he sees Buck’s name lighting up his screen. He’d been worried when they found out Buck’s parents were visiting. The few vague things he’s heard plus what he's been able to piece together did not paint a pretty picture. Then this morning Buck had been waling on the punching bags while Eddie watched with carefully hidden concern. Bobby had hoped that had gotten some of the overwhelming emotions out, helped the kid get back on solid ground, but a call any time after midnight is never a good sign.

“Buck?” He sits up, getting a grumble from where Athena had been tucked against his shoulder. There’s no answer, just shaky breaths barely audible. “Buck what’s wrong?”

Athena rubs her eyes and turns her laser focus on her husband as she wakes up fully.

Another stuttering breath, followed by a sniffle and all the parental warning bells in Bobby’s head are going haywire. “Buck, c’mon kiddo I need you to talk to me here.”

“Bobby…” Buck sounds wrecked, his voice trembling and small. He sounds young and scared and Bobby shares a nervous look with Athena.

“Where are you?” He starts simple, all his first responders training kicking in to get Buck somewhere safe.

“Um...I just kind of started driving…” The pause on the other end of the line is agonizing. “I’m by the pier.”

That sends all kinds of alarms off in his head again. Buck drove to the pier, completely without thinking, and Bobby changes tactics slightly. He doesn’t just need to get Buck somewhere safe, he needs to get Buck here. “Are you ok to get here or do you need me to pick you up?” He’d drive to the middle of nowhere to get Buck if that’s what the kid needed.

“I can drive.” There’s a hint of stubbornness back in his voice, but it does nothing to settle Bobby’s nerves.

“Ok.” Bobby slips into Captain mode, hoping it helps keep Buck focused and present. “I want you to stay on the phone with me, and come straight here. Can you do that?”

Buck takes a few breaths, gathering himself and when he answers he sounds at least a bit more like himself. Athena is already up, changing into lounge clothes and grabbing her phone. “Yeah Cap, I can do that.”

He nods, more to himself, “good job Buck. You stay with me alright? You don’t have to talk, just listen to my voice and focus on driving.” Grabbing a sweatshirt and his slippers, he tucks the phone against his ear. Buck is so quiet, it’s possibly the longest the kid has gone without talking, especially to Bobby. He always has an obscure fact to share, knowing his Captain was always interested. Sometimes they were ridiculous, or it was something Bobby already knew, but they had bonded over loving weird facts. The way Buck had lit up when he realized Bobby was actually interested had firmly placed him in Bobby’s heart.

Making his way into the kitchen he sees Athena putting the kettle on, kissing her cheek and getting a supportive one armed hug. “How we doin Buck?”

“Almost there.”

“Ok, you’re doing good.” There’s another shaky exhale, and something close to a sob breaking from Buck’s throat. “Hey did you know Einstein issued the patent for Toblerone chocolate?” He doesn’t wait for a response, knows the words don’t matter as much as just having Buck hear his voice. “He was working at the patent office as a way to occupy his brain while figuring out equations.” He keeps offering up facts as he opens the front door. As soon as a familiar jeep parks behind his truck he hangs up.

He meets Buck half way, taking in the hunch of his shoulders and the way he avoids meeting Bobby’s eyes. Wrapping an arm around him he guides the kid inside and gets him settled on the couch.

Athena presses a cup of tea into his hands, sitting next to him with a gentle hand on his arm. Buck deflates at the contact, still not meeting either of their eyes. “What happened Buckaroo?”

Buck’s quiet, mouth twisting and leg bouncing. They give him time, let him gather his thoughts. “I was doing so good...I was getting better and in two dinners they’ve just…undone it all.” He breaks off into a sob and Bobby is moving before he realizes it, sitting on Buck’s other side and pulling him into his arms as Athena takes his mug from shaking hands. Buck falls apart in front of their eyes, years of hurt finally breaking free. “They never...they never cared. When they’d look at me it was like they were staring right through me, they’d barely acknowledge I was there unless I was hurt or I fucked up…then they’d have to look at me…but I was never enough and I tried.” He sounds almost pleading as he chokes the words out through tears. “Bobby, I really tried to be good enough for them to love me and all they could say was how difficult I made it...how difficult we made it for them. I just wanted them to love me and instead they gave up on me.”

“Buck you listen to me right now. You do not have to earn your parents love.” Athena holds his face in her hands, trying to get him to look at her. “Kids are difficult. That’s just called being a kid. Our job as parents is to love our kids no matter what. We love you, no matter what, and we are so so proud of the man you are.”

His eyes meet Athena’s for a moment and then go blank again. A harsh laugh grates out of his chest, “they never even wanted another son...they never wanted me.”

“Buck, what do you mean another son?” Bobby tries to think back on what he knows about Buck’s family, but as far as he’s heard it’s just him and Maddie.

Bobby lets him free of the hug as he tries to get the words out. “I had a brother…he was older and he got sick. They needed bone marrow and no one else in our family was a match.” The pieces fall into place and Bobby wants to vomit. Buck was a savior baby, and like he could hear Bobby’s thoughts he closes his eyes against fresh tears. “They had me for parts. But it didn’t work and Daniel died…and they were stuck with me when I’d already failed to do the only thing I was made for.”

Over where Buck has hunched back over, hiding his face in his hands, Athena and Bobby share a shocked and horrified look. Without hesitating Athena wraps him in a protective hug, eyes fierce even as her voice murmurs comforting nonsense. On the table Bobby’s phone rings, a quick glance showing Eddie’s calling. Bobby places a steady hand on his back, “I’m guessing Eddie’s looking for you? Do you want me to tell him where you are?”

Without moving from the safety of Athena’s arms Buck nods and lets out another choking sob. “I was supposed to come over for movie night…After I left Maddie’s I just sort of, I don’t know I guess I checked out. I don’t even know what time it is.” Suddenly he sits straight up, eyes wide. “Shit! I missed movie night! And it’s probably the middle of the night and I woke you up and—”

Before he can work himself into a full panic Bobby squeezes his shoulder. “It’s ok Buck, we’re here for you whenever you need us. Don’t worry about what time it is.” Internally he’s trying not to let the terror of Buck so out of it he completely lost himself cloud his mind. He needs to keep a clear head, needs to be the steady rock Buck is searching for. “Now do you want me to tell Eddie you’re here?”

“He’s worried I bet…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry him.”

Grabbing his phone Bobby stands and sees multiple missed calls from Eddie and Chimney, “he’ll understand just like we do. We’re all here for you Buck, you’re not alone.” Athena hands Buck his tea, coaxing him to take a few sips while he calls Eddie back. After one ring it picks up and Eddie’s frantic voice fills his ear. “Cap, we can’t find Buck. I don’t know what happened when he went over to Chim and Maddie’s but she’s almost inconsolable and Chimney is flipping out. He won’t answer the phone and he was supposed to come over. Albert said he never went back to the loft either…”

Quickly he steps outside, not wanting Buck to hear how scared Eddie sounds, it would only make him feel worse. “Eddie, take a breath, Buck is here.” He’s about to say that Buck’s alright but there’s no way Eddie would buy it. “He’s here and he’s safe. We’ve got him.”

There’s a sigh of relief and no small amount of swearing in Spanish. “Ok…ok good. I’ll text Chim and let him know.” A pause and then a little quieter, “do you know what happened?”

“His entire world just got turned upside down, it’s not my place to say any more than that…but he’s going to need us, need you, more than ever.” Glancing inside he sees his wife pulling Buck to lean against her again, a strong arm around his shoulders.

“Whatever he needs.” Eddie says simply, a little bit of calm working through his voice now that he knows Buck is safe. “Can Christopher and I come over tomorrow?”

“Of course, I’ll make breakfast.” Thank god they’re off shift tomorrow, Bobby has no idea how they’d manage to convince Buck to take the day off. The kid would almost immediately take it as a sign he’d done something wrong. So much of his behavior, his actions, are suddenly making sense and Bobby would very much like to have strong words with Buck’s parents. “Get some rest Eddie, I’ll call you if anything changes but we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right, thank you Bobby.”

“Of course Eddie, take care of yourself and get some sleep.” Bobby hangs up and walks back inside and immediately Buck’s eyes shoot to his. “He’s not mad Buck, he’s just worried about you. I told him to bring Christopher over for breakfast.”

Buck looks completely drained as he sags with relief. His eyes are red and puffy and exhaustion radiates from every line of his body. With a quick squeeze Athena stands, “I’ll get the guest room all set up for you.” Buck looks like he’s about to apologize and Bobby’s heart breaks. “Don’t you dare apologize,” Athena says firmly. “You’re not being any trouble and we want you here. I know I’ll feel better if I know you’re here safe and sound.”

“Thank you…” Buck smiles at her, still subdued but genuine. Athena pauses to kiss the top of his head before heading down the hallway. Bobby takes her place on the couch and can’t help wrapping an arm around Buck in another protective hug. “I think you and Athena have hugged me more tonight than my parents have in my whole life…” Buck admits and Bobby wants to smack some sense into these people.

Anyone who’s spent more than 15 minutes with Buck can tell he thrives on physical contact. He takes every opportunity to be close to the people he loves. It’s the most obvious with Eddie, who’s always accepted Buck into his personal space even before they started to slide from friends to more, but Buck is quick with his affection and gets this almost surprised glee when he gets some in return. He soaks up love like a sponge and now they know why.

Athena comes back a few minutes later, giving them a fond look. “What do you think kiddo? Wanna try and get some sleep?” Bobby asks, rubbing a hand over Buck’s back.

“Yeah…I’m pretty drained Pops.” Together they stand up from the couch and follow Athena through the hallway.

“I put a pair of Bobby’s sweat pants and a sweatshirt on the bed.” Athena hugs him again, managing to tuck him against her so Buck looks small in her arms. He sniffles a little and steps back with a twist to his mouth.

Giving him a supportive pat on the shoulder, Bobby smiles at him. “We’re at the end of the hall if you need us.” Buck surprises him by reaching out and wrapping his arms around Bobby, squeezing tight before stepping back with a nod. “Thanks again…Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Buckaroo.” Athena smiles and grabs Bobby’s hand as they head to their room. They hear the door shut just as they shut their own and Bobby’s shoulders sag. Athena on the other hand starts pacing, eyes stormed over. “No wonder he was like that when he first came here. It was probably the only way he thought he could get any attention…we see it all the time with neglected kids.” Suddenly she pauses, spinning to face Bobby. “And Maddie! They probably made her keep it a secret…that poor girl had to just ignore that her brother had died and become a parent to the other one.”

Bobby rubs his hands over his face. “Eddie said she’s beside herself…inconsolable is the word he used…”

“I’ll call her in the morning and check on her.” Athena decides, finally crawling back into bed. Joining her under the covers, Bobby pulls her into his arms and takes comfort in the way she grips him just as tight. It’s a long time before they manage to fall asleep.

Buck leans against the door as it shuts. He feels…empty isn't the right word. More like he's been hollowed out and filled with cotton stuffing, nothing left in him but lumps and cheap fiber. Pulling his wallet and keys out of his pocket he tosses them on the night table, pausing as he pulls his phone out next. He turns it over in his hands as he sits on the bed, debating turning do not disturb off or ignoring the shitstorm that's probably growing in his notifications.

Taking a deep breath he sets it down and changes into his borrowed pjs. The sweatpants are a little big but actually long enough for once, and the sweatshirt is just loose enough it wraps him in comfort. Curling up under the blankets, Buck lets the feeling of safety wash over him. Snatching his phone from where he’d set it on the table he checks his battery life. It’s low but enough for him to pull up his recent calls and quickly select Eddie’s name.

It’s only two rings before the line picks up, “Buck?”

“Hey Eds…”

“Buck, baby are you ok?” Eddie goes from groggy to awake in a heartbeat and Buck closes his eyes against the worry staining his voice.

“Not really…no, but I’m better than I was.” He’s too tired to pretend right now, breath hitching, “I’m so sorry Eddie…I know Christopher is probably mad at me and I’m sure you are too 'cause I let him down and I didn’t mean to worry you…”

“Hey hey hey, it’s ok Buck.” Eddie cuts off the frantic apologies that seem to be forcing themselves from his throat. “Take a breath for me.”

There’s no way Buck can resist the softness in his words, following the gentle instructions until his breathing settles down. “I’m not mad Buck,” Eddie continues now that Buck’s not halfway to hyperventilating, “and neither is Christopher. We were worried about you, but you’re somewhere safe and that’s what matters.”

“Did you tell Maddie and Chim where I was?” Buck knows he probably did, he highly doubts they didn’t blow Eddie’s phone up when Buck went radio silent.

There’s a sigh on the other end of the phone, “yeah…They were terrified.” Buck feels a weird mix of guilt and anger flare up, and Eddie reads his mind as always. “I also told them to let you come to them, and to give you some space.” He hears the shifting of blankets before Eddie continues, “I know that whatever happened feels like your entire world just blew up…But remember that me and Christopher are here and we love you. Whatever it was, we'll be right here with you, ok?”

“Ok…I love you both too.” Buck wraps Eddie’s words around him, another layer of warmth under the borrowed sweatshirt. “Hey babe?” Eddie hums in questions. “Can you stay on the phone a little longer?”

“Yeah, I’m here Buck, for as long as you need me.”

It’s mostly quiet after that, a few murmured words of comfort and affection passed back and forth, but eventually Buck hears Eddie’s breathing even out and lets it soothe him enough to close his own eyes.

#swamp demon writes #my fic #buddie #firefam #I will always be weak for Bobby calling Buck kiddo

27 notes · View notes

tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years ago

Text

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 1/8

read on ao3

The sun is just rising when he gets to the rink, the early morning light streaming in through the high windows, making the ice glow. He’s the first one there, just like he planned, so he gets to take his time getting ready. He stretches a bit in the locker room before lacing up his skates and heading to the ice. Placing his guards on the boards, he takes a minute to just look, relishing in the stillness, the quiet, the smooth surface of the untouched ice. He takes one step, two, and he’s off, gliding through the mirrored surface, carving his path as he goes.

Buck can’t remember a time when skating wasn’t his entire life. He first put on skates at four, wobbling on the side of the rink while Maddie was in lessons. He started lessons of his own at six, and after that, he never stopped thinking about being on the ice. And he was good, too — by eight he was competing in the regional circuit, already landing a handful of clean triples when most kids were still struggling with doubles. He qualified for his first nationals at 10, won gold in Juniors at 11, and by the time he qualified for Junior Grand Prix at 13, people already knew his name. They knew his “modern artistry” as they called it, his powerful jumps, and talked about him like he was someone worth watching out for once he made it to the senior level.

It helped that by then, Buck was already addicted to competition. He loved skating on its own — the power he felt when he jumped and flew across the ice, the beauty of well-executed spirals and step sequences — but nothing made him feel more alive than doing it in front of a crowd and a panel of judges. Landing each element perfectly sent a thrill through him that he never wanted to stop feeling, and seeing his scores, usually much higher than others, was something that never got boring. He wanted to be the best, was on his way to being the best, and those hazy dreams of an Olympic gold medal didn’t feel quite as hazy anymore.

For a while, at least. Until he showed up.

But Buck doesn’t want to think about him right now, he just wants to enjoy the peace and quiet while he can. He’s not skating to anything in particular, just the music in his head taking him wherever feels right. He’s so lost in it, trying to nail the bit of choreo he just made up, that he doesn’t even notice Bobby until he hears him clapping from the benches.

“Looks good, Buck. Talk to Hen, I think that would work in your new short.”

“Thanks Bobby,” Buck says, making his way to the boards. Bobby hands him his guards and his water bottle, heading back towards the locker room.

“Come on, we’re just about to get started.”

Bobby and Athena have had this beginning of the season meeting for as long as Buck has been at their club. They go over assignments for Grand Prix and the Challenger series, figure out general training schedules, and do a “goal setting session” for what they want to accomplish this season.

Bobby calls it a “family meeting”, which is cute but also annoying. Skating isn’t a team sport. Families don’t win medals. And that’s all Buck wants to accomplish every season until he retires: he wants to win.

He sits down on a bench next to Maddie, who’s deep in conversation with Athena about her and Chimney’s programs, he’s sure. She’s been planning them since Worlds, so they’re probably fully choreographed and ready for competition. The Buckleys are nothing if not overachievers.

Bobby clears his throat, standing in front of the roll-away white board, and gets started. Buck’s half paying attention — it’s the fifth time he’s heard the “athletes aren’t born, they’re made” speech, he gets the point — letting his eyes wander over the small crowd of skaters. Chim’s on Athena’s other side, nodding along with Bobby. May and Hen are standing along the lockers, whispering quietly. The Juniors kids are sitting on the floor, in awe of their coach as he talks about hard work and victory. Buck gets it, he’s still a little in awe of Bobby himself, but not so much of his recycled speeches.

There’s one face, though, that he doesn’t see, and for a minute, he’s hopeful. He’s gone, he moved, he went to work with Rafael in Lakewood or something, so I’ll only have to see him maybe four times a year instead of every goddamn day thank god—

The doors to the locker room burst open, and fuck.

Because, nope, he’s still here. Windswept and out of breath and 15 minutes late, yet somehow still oozing confidence and jackassery.

Eddie Diaz. Olympic Bronze Medalist. Two time reigning World Champion. And the absolute bane of Buck’s existence.

Bobby doesn’t even say anything, just waves him in and keeps talking. If Buck had been that late, even if it was for a good reason, he would have had his ass handed to him in front of everyone and would’ve had to run laps or something after his ice time. But of course, Eddie gets a pass.

Whatever.

Buck doesn’t pay much attention to the rest of the meeting, too busy trying to keep himself from glaring at Eddie every 20 seconds. He tunes in enough to hear that they’ll both be going to Skate America and NHK because of course they are and spends the rest of the meeting trying to keep his blood pressure down. When it’s finally over, he makes his way through the crowd to get back to the ice for his first session with Bobby. He’s scrolling through his phone, trying to find his music, when he feels someone walk over and join him on the bench. He looks over, and lo and behold—

“Eddie,” he says with what he hopes is a low level of contempt.

“Buck,” Eddie responds, looking over and nodding as he laces up his skates. “Good summer?”

“Fine.”

“Ready for the season?”

“Always am.”

Eddie smiles, easy and charming, and Buck hates his fucking guts. He nods at him again as he heads onto the ice, and Buck gives into the temptation to thump his head against boards a few times.

It’s going to be a very long year.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck has hated Eddie since they were 16 years old.

Okay, maybe “hate” is a little strong, but whatever emotion it is when just looking at a person makes you feel like smoke is coming out of your ears, that’s how he feels.

It was his first season in Seniors, and he had been doing better than he expected in the first half — a silver and a bronze at his Grand Prixs, and fifth at the Grand Prix Final. Nowhere near perfect or the best in the world, but he was the best US men’s skater and poised to win gold at Nationals. He hadn’t even heard the name “Eddie Diaz” until he got to Nats, and even then it was just whispers — some small town kid from Texas who was landing clean quadruple jumps at a time when some of the highest ranked skaters couldn’t. Buck was working on them — his coach kept harping on how important they’d be to the sport one day — but he’d hit a growth spurt just before the beginning of the season, so he was still getting used to his new center of gravity.

But the rumors were true, Buck saw it with his own eyes at a practice session. He remembers the mix of awe and dread as he watched Eddie jump — the thoughts of damn I want to be as good as this kid and he’s about to take everything from me.

Eddie won Nats by about 30 points. Buck came in second. The US only had one spot at both Four Continents and Worlds, and Eddie got picked for both. Something about having “a better chance with his abilities and consistency in the international field” or some other bullshit.

He didn’t podium at either. Buck felt shamelessly vindicated.

Over the next three years, they became perfect foils of each other — Buck with good jumps but better artistic expression and connection to the music, Eddie a little stiff but a blur of height and speed in the air. They flip-flopped at competitions — Buck got silver, Eddie got gold. Buck got gold, Eddie got bronze. Nats turned into a yearly showdown, the media always highlighting their “friendly rivalry”. Buck must have been a better actor than he thought if he was coming across as “friendly”.

He won Nats right before the Olympics, pretty much guaranteeing his chances of getting named to the Olympic Team. Two days before the announcement, he broke his leg on a bad landing and felt his dreams shatter along with the bone.

Eddie went instead. He placed third, higher than any US man had placed in 12 years.

Buck watched it all from his couch, unsure if he’d ever be able to skate again.

Fast forward three seasons, and while Buck is still struggling to get his consistent jumps back, Eddie keeps skyrocketing. He hasn’t lost a major competition in two years and is the overwhelming favorite to win the gold medal in Beijing. It was bad enough to hear about it from other skaters or see at competitions, but then Eddie moved to Bobby and Athena’s club a year ago, so now Buck gets to suffer through first hand observation.

It simultaneously pushes him harder and makes him want to die.

Which is the exact feeling he has right now as he watches Eddie land a perfect quad toe triple toe combo. He tried the same combo yesterday and landed flat on his ass, so now he just wants to practice it over and over until it’s perfect and he can rub it in Eddie’s smug face. See, you’re not the only one who can do it. You’re not that special.

“You better watch how hard you’re frowning, Buckaroo, you’re gonna get wrinkles,” Hen says as she walks over to him. She follows his line of sight, and her expression turns from vaguely worried to exasperated. “Staring that hard at Eddie isn’t gonna make him fall.”

“It could,” he says. “Maybe I have untapped psychic powers that are just waiting to come out.”

She gives him a flat look. “Sure, and I’m the long lost crown princess of a small European country. Can we go over your free instead of fantasizing about stupid things, please?”

“Fine, fine,” Buck says, finally turning away from Eddie as he steps on the ice.

He loves his programs this season — he usually doesn’t get used to them for a few months, but this time around, he already feels connected. His short is more modern, melancholic and gritty, while his free is more classic, hopeful, makes him feel like he’s floating rather than skating. He’s always been good at choreography — either taking it and making it his own or creating steps himself — and he feels like both really highlight his talents. Plus Hen, being the amazing choreographer and friend that she is, let him have a lot more input this time around, so it all feels more authentic. He likes to think that no matter what happens, he’ll be proud of whatever he puts out with these pieces.

They work on his free for an hour, and he stays an extra two to work on his short and his jumps on his own. By the time he leaves, the sun has set, his legs are already sore, and he has a lovely bruise blossoming on his right thigh from falling on his quad flip three times in a row.

It’s all worth it, though. Because as much as he wants to be happy with his programs no matter what, he knows he won’t be unless they get him to the top of that podium, hearing the national anthem play with a gold medal around his neck.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s floating away in his dream, higher and higher like a runaway helium balloon. He can see the whole world below him, spread out and endless, rolling hills and forests and oceans. He wonders if he’ll ever come back down, or if he’ll just keep moving up and up, into the atmosphere, into space, into a different universe. He thinks that might not be so bad.

Suddenly, he’s falling, plummeting back down to Earth like an asteroid. He’s racing and racing towards the ground, bracing for impact, for everything in his body to break, he’s falling and falling faster and faster—

He wakes with a yell, covered in sweat, his leg twinging. He takes a few minutes to breathe and get his heart rate back down, but even then, he’s still shaking.

He looks at the clock. 4:30am. He could go back to sleep — he doesn’t have practice until noon.

Except his mind is churning now with the phantom memory of breaking. The feeling of going from standing to not being able to move, pain radiating from his leg into every other part of his body. The panic, not just for his body, but for his whole life and what it could turn into. What he could lose.

He lays there for another half an hour, but the memories just keep burning. So, he does what he always does when he needs to shut his mind off.

He goes to the rink.

First practice isn’t until 8am, so he uses his keys to unlock the back door. Chuck, the janitor, was sick of waiting two extra hours to lock up after him, so he gave him his own set after his first season. Buck gives him a giant cookie bouquet for Christmas every year in return.

He feels better after just a few laps around the ice. The chill that bites as he speeds up his pace, the white noise of his blades in the ice, it all settles him like nothing else. He speeds up still, setting up for a triple Salchow — easy, almost second nature, a jump he could do in his sleep. He pushes off, but as soon as he’s airborne, something jolts through him, makes his stomach turn over. He pops the jump to a single and lands on the wrong edge, losing his balance and sprawling across the ice on his back. He stays there, staring up at the lights, letting the cold leech in through his sweatshirt.

Almost four years later, and this is still happening. He scares himself out of jumps like he expects each one to end badly, even though he knows — logically, statistically knows — that it’s unlikely.

And yet. Here he is. On his back. After another failure.

He’s too tired to feel pissed or frustrated like he usually does, so he’s just resigned. Today is not the day for jumps. That’s just how it is.

He gets up finally and skates over to his bag, digs his headphones out and queues up his short program music. He works through the step sequences, over and over, making little tweaks as necessary, thinking through where the judges could take off points until it’s perfect. The repetition quiets the last of his racing thoughts, and he finally feels like himself again.

He’s moving into his last spin when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He slows down enough to recognize Eddie, inching towards the locker room like he’s trying not to be seen.

Buck stops, staring Eddie down. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Eddie freezes eyes wide, looking suspiciously guilty. He walks forward, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I have an 8am and wanted to beat traffic on my way in. The back door was open when I got here, and I saw the lights on, so I—” he swallows, looking anywhere but Buck’s face. There’s a blush crawling up his neck, and he looks nervous.

Nervous like he just got caught somewhere he shouldn’t be, Buck thinks. He narrows his eyes as he checks his watch — it’s 7:00. He gets wanting to beat traffic, but a whole hour?

He quickly makes his way off the ice, grabbing his bag from the bench. “Well, I’m done for now, it’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says quietly. Buck’s just about through the door when he hears his name. He turns back to Eddie, his blush now all the way up to his hairline.

“You looked good out there. Can’t wait to see it in competition.”

Buck freezes, processing the compliment. A compliment. From Eddie. They hardly talk unless they have to, and even then it’s never friendly. Cordial, sure, but not friendly.

So why is he being so nice now?

Buck just narrows his eyes again before stalking off to the lockers.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mads, I really think he’s gonna pull a Tonya Harding on me.”

She looks at him over her wine glass, unimpressed. “Yeah, because that worked out so well for Tonya the first time.”

“I’m serious!” he says, taking a sip from his own glass. Neither of them drink during the season, so they’re taking full advantage of their weekly wine nights while they can. Buck’s not a lightweight by any means, but two glasses in and he is starting to feel a little fuzzy. And a little crazy, trying to figure out what Eddie was up to this morning. “You haven’t seen any weird guys lurking around have you? You’d tell me if you did, right?”

Maddie rolls her eyes. “You sound insane.”

“I’m not insane if I’m right. Why else would he be watching me?”

“We all watch each other, Buck! He was watching Chim and me yesterday too while he was on break. He even said our twizzles were really in sync.”

“You better watch your back too, maybe he’s trying to take the whole club out.”

“Oh my god,” she says, pouring another, very full glass.

“He’s just so— he’s—”

“Annoyingly perfect? Obnoxiously talented? I know, Buck, you only bring it up every 15 minutes.”

Buck deflates at that. “I don’t— it’s not that often.” Sure, he rants about how clean Eddie’s edges are and how good his quad flip is, but that’s because it’s so irritating. Buck works just as hard as Eddie, and he knows he’s not flawless. But somehow, Eddie is. Stupidly flawless and perfect and—

“I’m just saying,” she says, squeezing his hand across the table and bringing him back to the conversation. She pours him another generous glass, too. “This energy is great, but it would probably be better to put more of it into practice and less of it into worrying about one of your competitors. I know you’re nervous about this season, but you can’t let that turn into this weird paranoia. Don’t let it take your head out of the game.”

He sits back and sighs. She’s right, of course. She always is.

He doesn’t tell her that, though. Just takes a gulp of wine and tries not to think about Eddie’s annoyingly perfect anything.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a news truck parked outside the rink when he gets in the next morning, and he spends about 15 minutes contemplating just going home and telling Bobby he’s sick.

The lead reporter — Taylor, he thinks — claims they’re here to do a profile on the club and how they’re preparing for the Olympics, but he knows they’re mostly here for Eddie. They want any and all sound bites they can get from him to use over and over and over in coverage leading up to Beijing. Quotes about hard work and following his dreams that they can play over footage of him skating and smiling after winning again. Buck’s already annoyed at the prospect of seeing them on NBC Sports for the next six months.

To their credit, they do film everyone practicing at some point. They get Maddie and Chim doing their new rotational lift, May landing her triple lutz that she’s been working on for months, and Buck’s nearly perfect (if he does say so himself) flying camel spin. So at least they have good footage of him, not just random shots in the background of Eddie’s. Maybe he’ll even get his own little promo.

Bobby calls him into his office after lunch, where the news crew has set up an interview space. He wasn’t expecting to talk to anyone — maybe a quick question at the boards, but nothing this fancy. He sits in one of the chairs as someone puts powder on his face and tries to do something with his hair. Taylor sits down across from him, a 1000-watt smile turned on as the cameras start rolling.

“So, Evan. Or do you prefer Buck?”

“Evan’s fine.” As much as he hates his first name, it’s how the general public knows him. Buck is reserved for friends and family.

And Eddie, an annoying voice reminds him. Fine, friends and family and...competitors.

“You came in second at Nationals and Four Continents last year, and fourth at Worlds. How do you feel about the momentum going into this Olympic season?”

“Every season is different,” he says as diplomatically as possible. These reporters always want drama, someone slipping up and bragging about themselves when they have no right to. He’s not wrong — every season is different. No matter who’s expected to win or who has the most medals, you never know how everything will play out. “We haven’t had a men’s field this strong in a while, so it’ll be interesting to see what happens. But I’m as prepared as I can be at this point.”

“You were injured right before the last Olympics. Do you see this year as a bit of redemption for yourself?”

He feels his smile go tight. “It’s every kid’s dream to go to the Games. It’s certainly still mine. I’m ready to do whatever I can to make that dream come true.”

“Eddie Diaz has been with your club for just over a year now. What’s it like training with him?”

There it is, he thinks. He’s surprised she asked so many questions about him before getting to Eddie. The first responses he thinks of are all variations of he sucks and I can’t stand the sight of him, but he knows any petty answers will be worse for him personally than anyone else. So, as much as it pains him, he settles on the nicest version of the truth he can muster.

“Eddie’s an amazing skater,” he says, surprising himself at how genuine he sounds. “He’s been paving new paths in the sport, and he’s pushed everyone to be better to try and get on his level, myself included. He definitely brings that same energy to the club.”

“Do you think you can beat him this year?”

Wow, she’s not holding any punches.

He shrugs, smiling through the sudden burst of anxiety in his veins. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite his less than fiery interview, Taylor asks him what he’s doing after practice right before they leave. It’s easy enough to turn her down — he’s got an early PT appointment in the morning, plus the way she’s been looking at him all day is making him itchy. He can tell she only sees him as an object — as a means to get her name on a lead story or a body to keep her bed warm or both — and that’s just not something he’s interested in. Maybe a few years ago, when sex was a way for him to forget about the potential end of his career, but not now.

As nonchalant as he was in the interview, this season really could make or break him.

He can’t afford any distractions.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #SHE'S HERE #I HOPE Y'ALL LOVE MY CHILD AS MUCH AS I DO #and if not that's okay this is pure self indulgence #fs au #ficcery

49 notes · View notes

llnwritings · 4 years ago

Text

♫ JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS APPRECIATION WEEK ♫

DAY 6 | Write a fic with your favourite fanfiction trope.

Summary: Alex is one of the few special people born with a soulmate mark. However, unfortunately at a young age the mark fades and leaves a scar, indicating that his soulmate has died. Alex knew he wasn’t meant to be happy.

Trigger warnings: Bad Parenting, Homophobic Language

[[Read on Ao3]]

Everyone knew about the stories of soul marks, those lucky few born with a name written on their wrist of the person that they were destined to love and be loved by. The name was written in grey, that was until you met your soulmate, then the name changed to your soulmate’s favourite colour when you touched each other for the first time. Or so the stories went. Soulmarks were so rare that there wasn’t much research into how they really worked.

Alex was one of those lucky few. Born with the name William written in blocky handwriting on his right wrist, it was one of the first words he learnt to read and recognise. But as happy as his parents were that he was special and he had a soulmate, there was unsaid tension between the two of them. His mother was supportive as much as she could be, but his father was distant and cold. It wasn't until Alex was six that he learnt why, the memory forever seared into his young mind.

----

Six year old Alex was too excited to sleep, in the next few days he would be starting school. Ever since he could remember, his parents hadn’t really allowed him to play with other kids and even when he did, his father had always made sure he had a leather cuff attached to his wrist that he was forbidden to take off in front of others, under threat of punishment. It hid his mark, something that made Alex sad and nervous. His father would always put it on too tight, which would leave red markings for days.

But soon he would be going to big boy school and his mother had even said that she would talk to father about not wearing the cuff to school. Alex quietly walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen for a drink, but he stopped when he heard voices talking. He crouched against the hallway wall and listened as his parents argued loudly.

"Mark please," He heard mother beg, "Let’s at least talk about this. Think about what's best for Alex, is our local standing more important than our son’s happiness? Let him love whoever he wants, for all we know, he’ll never even meet this William."

"I am Allison, no son of mine will be a flaming homosexual," His father hissed at his wife, spitting the last word out like a curse, "That name will bring this family nothing but trouble and shame. Once they find out about his mark, how will we look to the neighbours? Work colleagues? My boss? The church? No, my mind is made up! I'll take him to the centre tomorrow and they will remove the mark. No one needs to ever know about that thing on his wrist."

“You’ll be destroying a part of him,” His mother sobbed, “Why would you want to do that? What if he hates you when he grows up, what if he never forgives you?”

His father was silent and Alex peered around the edge of the doorway hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. His father ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I can live with Allison. He can hate me all he wants but I’m looking out for what’s best for this family. I will not stand for my own flesh and blood loving the same gender under my roof. My decision’s final.”

Alex crept out back down the hallway and back towards his bedroom, his drink totally forgotten. He frowned at the words his father was saying, not really understanding what they meant. Looking down at his wrist, he traced the name, Alex didn't think William was a bad name and so what if it was a boy's name, boy’s were awesome, Alex would love to spend all his time with another boy, all he had at the moment was a sister and she was no fun at all. Girls weren't fun to play with either, they all had cooties.

Alex got back into bed and tried to go to sleep, but his mind was going a million miles an hour. His father’s words repeating themselves over and over again, Alex couldn’t understand how loving someone could be wrong. It was nearly 3 in the morning before Alex was finally able to drift off.

The trip to the center never happened.

The next morning, Alex woke up screaming in pain and all the noise he made caused mother to come rushing into his bedroom still in her pajamas, worry etched into her face.

“Honey, what’s wrong,” She came and sat on the edge of his bed, her hands reaching to comfort her son.

“It hurts,” Alex cried, tears streaming down his face, as he pushed his wrist into his mother’s open hands, “It hurts.”

Allison frowned, looking down at her son’s wrist, she gasped in shock. The once grey name was slowly fading away to nothingness, the edge of the name an angry red as if someone had burnt the skin. The change in the name could only mean one thing, Alex’s soulmate had died before they even had the chance to meet.

Allison wrapped her arms around the sobbing boy and comforted him the best she could, not knowing the pain he was feeling or how to make it stop.

“It’s going to be alright, honey,” She whispered as she held him close and rubbed his back, “We’ll get through this. You’re going to be fine.” Allison repeated the words over and over again, not just for Alex’s sake but for her own as well, her heart breaking at the sounds he was making.

Alex continued to cry, not only from the pain in his wrist but from a pain he felt deep within himself, a pain that he couldn’t put into words. It was like something broke and he didn’t know how to fix it. He curled into his mother’s embrace, his face tucked into her neck, he wanted her to fix the pain but somehow knew that she couldn’t.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Alex’s sobs had turned into sniffles as he cried himself back to sleep. Allison layed her son back down on his bed and tucked the blankets around him. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and quietly left the bedroom to find her husband.

She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the newspaper out and a coffee in hand.

“You’ll be happy to know that you got what you wanted and you didn't have to spend any money at all,” Allison spoke softly to her husband as she made herself a cup of strong black coffee, “Your son’s soulmark faded and scarred last night. William is dead.” Allison sat down at the opposite end of the table, letting her words sink in, “You don’t have to be ashamed anymore. No one will be able to tell that our son was to have a soulmate."

"Good then," Mark scoffed and went back to his newspaper. He dropped the matter for now.

----

Years went on and Alex grew up, he never did forget the name William and would still spend time tracing over the light scarring on his wrist when he was feeling sad. The name was hardly visible now, only if you knew it was there and where to look, could you see it. Alex never told a soul that he used to have a mark, he never saw the point.

His dad’s attitude never changed towards Alex, no matter how hard he tried to please him. He went to school, got excellent grades, went to church, he was a good son but no matter what he did, his dad never looked at him with pride, love or affection. Alex knew it was because of the soulmark he used to have, just by having a boy’s name on him had tainted himself in his dad’s eyes forever. He was older enough to recognise the looks his dad would give same sex couples walking down the street hand in hand, were the same ones he would he would give Alex before hiding his mark with that leather cuff.

So at age 14, Alex stopped trying to please his dad. He still did well in school - he actually liked learning - but he stopped going to church, not seeing the point of it and always found a reason to not be in the house if his dad was home. He became friends with Luke, Reggie and Bobby and started a band. Sunset Curve was on its way to be a huge success! Well according to Luke anyway.

At age 16, Alex took a chance on love, but was caught kissing a boy behind the high school gym. When his dad had been told from one of his church friends, he blew his top and knocked Alex around before kicking him out of the house, saying he never wanted to see him again. Alex spent the night on Bobby’s pullout couch.

He spent a lot of nights on Bobby’s couch, luckily his parents were cool having a teenager crash with them. Bobby’s parents had spoken to Alex’s mum and they came to an agreement. Alex would stay at Bobby’s for the foreseeable future, at least until Alex’s mum could convince Alex’s dad to let him come home and she would pay them for the inconvenience of housing another teenage boy.

He never did make it home.

Alex, along with Luke and Reggie died at 17 to a hotdog and not even a good tasting one! After their death, the trio spent 25 years in a black room and in that time Alex never noticed his soulmark return to its grey colouring and the scarring disappeared.

----

Alex wasn’t handling being a ghost very well, the lack of answers to things was driving him insane. While Luke and Reggie’s lack of concern was causing his anxiety to skyrocket. He needed to get away and breathe.

Alex poofed out of the studio and found him on Hollywood Boulevard. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on slowing down his thoughts. After a few moments, he reopened his eyes only to jump in fright when he caught sight of two ghostbusters ahead of him. It was stupid to that they were here for him, Alex freaked out as they began to walk purposefully towards him.

“No, no, no,” Alex whispered in fright, only for the two ghostbusters to walk straight through him, “Oh,” Alex glanced around to see if anyone saw his freak out, he then huffed and rolled his eyes at himself. He was dead, no one could see him.

With a sigh, Alex started to walk down the street, his thoughts starting to roam again.

Still lost in his thoughts, Alex was completely unaware of his surroundings. He gasped out in shock as someone collided with his shoulder, sending them both to the floor with a thud. Pain burst from his wrist at the contact, leaving Alex confused, while being a ghost things weren’t supposed to hurt.

Alex heard the other person to his right grunt in pain as well.

Alex pulled himself to his feet, while rubbing his wrist, the pain had now receded to a tingle.

“Uh, man you dinged my board,” Alex heard the other person moan.

“I dinged your board,” Alex huffed, “No dude,you ran me over, you’re lucky I didn’t-” Alex blinked, realizing that there was only one reason as to why this guy could have knocked him over in the first place, “Yo-you ran me over. You’re a ghost?”

“Well yeah,” The other ghost unbuckled his helmet, “Ever since I learnt the hard way that skating in traffic was bad.” Alex watched, slacked jawed as the ghost removed his helmet and shook out his hair.

‘Oh no, he’s hot.’

As they made eye contact, Alex saw something change in the other ghost’s demeanor, he no longer looked annoyed about his skateboard.

“Hey, sorry I smashed into you,” He apologised. “I thought you were a lifer and I’d just, like, pass through.”

Alex blinked at the term, “Uh, a lifer?”

“Uh yeah,” The other teen looked confused, “That’s what we call people who are living.”

Alex nodded his understanding but was still slightly confused.

“You’re new to this whole ghost thing, aren’t you?”

Alex winced, “Yeah, is it that obvious?”

“Totally,’ The other ghost laughed, but not in a mean way.

The other ghost then stuck out his hand, “Hey uh, I’m Willie.”

“Oh, uh Alex,” Alex took the offered hand and shook it.

“Ah.” “Ow.”

Both ghost’s quickly released the other’s hand and grabbed their wrists to ward off the sharp tingle. Alex looked down at his wrist and watched in shock as the grey of his soulmark changed to blue. Alex looked up to see Willie looking back at him in awe.

“Alex, as in short for Alexander?” Willie asked softly, turning over his wrist to show Alex’s name written in his own handwriting and coloured pink.

“Oh wow, yeah that’s me,” Alex blinked in shock at his name, gently taking a hold of Willie’s wrist to get a closer look, “I thought you died,” The blonde frowned and looked back to Willie, “Well I guess technically you did die, if you're standing here as a ghost. I’ve never heard of a faded mark regaining colour before.”

Willie smiled as he listened to Alex ramble on. It was cute.

“I guess that means Willie is short for William then?” Alex asked hopefully, turning over his own wrist for Willie to see.

Willie traced over his own handwriting with his thumb on Alex’s wrist, “Yeah that’s my writing,” Willie looked back to Alex, “Say, you doing anything right now?”

“No,” Alex tilted his head in confusion, “Why?”

“Want to hang out? I could show you around and answer your ghost questions. If you have fun, maybe we could hang out again?”

“Uh, okay, that sounds fine.”

“And by hang out, I mean do you want to go on a date?” Willie wasn’t masking his intentions, he had been without his soulmate for years and he wasn’t going to screw this up now that he had found him.

“A date sounds fun,” Alex squeaked out with a smile.

“Awesome.” Willie took a hold of Alex’s hand and poofed them to one of his favourite places, he had a soulmate to woo.

The End

#jatpweek #Willex #jatp alex #jatp willie #jatp fic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #llnwrites #tw homophobic language #no caleb #soulmate marks

12 notes · View notes

nickelkeep · 4 years ago

Photo

What We’re in For

Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Mature Word Count: 5.2K Warnings: Minor Character Death Written For: nickel’s storytime, part 4 of the Runaway Series On Ao3

Dean anxiously paced back and forth in Bobby's study. He was on the phone, and while Bobby was making some noises of approval, he couldn't get a read on the Old Man.

"Sit down." Sam hissed, pointing at one of the chairs by the window. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm making you nervous? Our old man is hunting down an innocent pack, you know, the one that has a member that I accidentally bonded with? How do you think I feel?" Dean snapped before listening to his brother's advice and sitting down.

Bobby set his phone down on his desk. "You both can knock it off." He pointed at the free seat next to Dean. "You sit down too, Sam. I need your head in the game as much as Dean's."

"What did you find out?" Dean reached for the whiskey Bobby kept on the table between the two chairs, only to have his hand slapped at by Sam. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

"And I said enough." Bobby huffed out before covering his face with his hand. He let out a sigh and dragged his hand down. "Looks like an old hunting colleague of ours got himself into a position of power out in Illinois. Name's Kubrick. He took John's application and approved it with little fanfare."

"Sounds like there's more to it." Sam leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees. "Something fishy?"

"You two remember Annie Hawkins, right?" Bobby waited until Sam and Dean acknowledged him. "Well, I had her look into it. The patron for the license is listed as one Amanda Tapping. However–" Bobby picked his phone back up and turned it to the brothers. "The lady on the left is Amanda Tapping. The lady on the right is the one who claims to be Amanda Tapping."

"Is this Ms. Tapping a family member of one of the people the wendigo got?" Dean asked.

"Nailed it in one." Bobby nodded. "However, thanks to Annie being as good as she is, she found out that this lady on the right here is a woman by the name of Naomi Novak."

Dean sat up straighter in his chair. "Novak? Like Clan Novak." He looked at Sam. "Gabriel mentioned a Naomi."

"Who is she?"

"I'm not sure, Sam. I'm thinking she's their former Pack Leader. Gabe mentioned something about how 'female pack leaders are normally cold, like Naomi,' when we were talking about Maddie in the hospital." Dean ruffled his hair. "Maybe she is, and she was ousted. And now she's trying to get revenge on her clan?" Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Calling your wolf?" Bobby sat on the corner of his desk.

"If his old Pack Leader is coming after him, I should probably warn him." He let out a heavy sigh. "Come on, Cas. Pick up." The phone went to voice mail, and Dean hung up before trying to call again.

"Dean?"

Dean hushed at Sam and waited until the phone went to voicemail again. "Shit." He jumped up from his seat and pointed at his younger brother. "Go find Maddie, protect her and her Pack. Bobby, can you get other witches or hunters to Garth and Kate's packs, please?"

He was out the door and behind his Baby's steering wheel in a matter of seconds. Cas simply did not not answer his phone. He'd pick up, say he was busy, and that he'd call back. Something about being polite and punctual. As he sped down the road to the Homestead, Dean tried two more times to call Cas, both going straight to voicemail. He hoped that it only meant that Cas was down in the bunker, and there was no signal for his call to get through.

Once he pulled up in front of the farmhouse, Dean quickly shifted Baby into park and hopped out. He didn't see any of Clan Novak's Weres out and about working, and his anxiety began to skyrocket. Dean ran up to the house and banged on the front door. When no one answered, he tried the knob and let himself in. As Dean looked around, he realized that he had come across the scene of a house left in a hurry.

"CAS?" Dean cried out, running around the house. He searched each floor quickly, pushing open bedroom doors and looking for any Weres that may have hidden. Both satisfied and unsatisfied that there was no one left in the house, Dean made his way outside and started running towards the silo.

Before he made it halfway, a single solitary gunshot rang through the air. "CAS!" Dean cried out. He paused for all of a moment listening for the echo of the shot to fade before determining the location of the shooter. Dean broke out into a sprint, making his way towards the woods on the far side of the house.

…

"Well, I knew I was right in hiding out in these woods. Breaking one or two of your wards was sure to send one of you running out here to check it." Cas fought down a growl as the man standing in front of him aimed the gun at his Aunt Amara. "Didn't think I'd be lucky enough to have a two-for-one special. Granted, I won't leave until I've killed every single one of your Pack members. That's what this nice little permit here entitles me to."

"You were able to procure a permit to kill us?" Amara's voice rang steady, helping to calm and center Cas. "I'm not sure how you achieved that legally, considering we were proven innocent."

"Then why were you so afraid?" The man took another step closer and switched his aim to Cas as Cas started to move between the two of them. "Back up, Mutt. I've been hunting with this my whole life. I'll get you and still get her before she can shift."

"Aunt Amara, if I tackle him, you can run. Please," Cas pleaded. "The Pack needs you."

"Hush, sweet Pup," Amara reached over and ran her fingers through the fur at Cas' nape. "It will all be okay."

"Like hell, it will." The man used the rifle to prod and nudge Amara, causing the distance to grow between her and Cas. "Maybe I should line you two up, no point in sparing a bullet on both of you. It would just be a waste." The hunter lifted the gun, aiming it Cas. "Sorry, Mutt, nothing personal. Just hate creatures, and the money made it so worth it."

Before he could pull the trigger, a bright streak of silver came out behind the man, biting at his arm and trying to knock the rifle free.

"You stupid beast!" The man whipped his arm back and the shirt tore away, revealing a Kevlar arm guard. "You think you're my first creature to hunt?" Before the wolf could get back to its feet, the man delivered a swift and strong kick to the wolf's ribs, sending it tumbling against the ground. "Well, you've got the honors of being the first of your pack to die, friend."

"Inias!" Amara cried out, as Cas howled and started to charge at the hunter.

A loud, solitary gunshot stopped Cas in his tracks, and the hunter turned around, racking his rifle for another shot. Cas growled and prepared to pounce on the man when Amara jumped onto him. "No, Castiel. No!"

"You think you're going to get off the hook? I've got enough silver bullets for over two hundred wolves." The man smirked. "And as far as I'm concerned, there's no one out here to hear–"

"ABI!"

The man flew across the glade and slammed into a tree. He hit with a sick thunk and slid down, collapsing at the trunk. Both Cas and Amara looked to the source of the spell, and Cas' heart started pounding rapidly at the sight of Dean, panting, resting his hands on his legs.

"Inias!" Amara wailed, scrambling to her feet, tripping as she made her way to the silver wolf. Cas watched as Dean ran next to her, and he quickly followed, using his nuzzle to move Amara out of the way. Through their bond, Cas felt as Dean's heart sank, and he instantly knew that his pack member, one of his closest kin growing up, was gone.

"Hold on for me, please." Dean started pushing magic into Inias. "Please, your pack needs you, Inias."

Cas whimpered and nuzzled against Dean. While he knew that Dean could understand what he was saying, he hoped the message was clear.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough." Dean got to his feet and helped Amara to her feet. He bent back down and picked up Inais' body, cradling it carefully. "Show us where to go, Cas. I need to get you two to safety before John wakes up."

Cas focused his nuzzling on Amara's hand. "You heard him, Aunt Amara. We need to go."

"I know, sweet Pup." Amara wiped at her face and fell in line behind Cas, with Dean bringing up the rear.

…

Dean stood at the rear of the room, closest to the door. It felt wrong to be there, he felt like an intruder on the Pack's grief. Sure, he had gotten to know Inias over the past couple of weeks, and he mourned for the loss of a pack member beloved to Cas, but this wasn't his place.

So he stood a silent vigil in the back. While it was unlikely John would figure out how to get in the bunker, he wouldn't let anymore harm come to Clan Novak. Dean watched as Cas held his Aunt Amara, and briefly remembered that Inias was his cousin. Was Amara Inias' mother?

As Amara sunk to the floor crying, Dean felt Cas' pain and guilt wash over him. He knew that Cas took his position of Den Protector seriously. The fact that Inias died, coming to rescue him and Amara had to weigh on Cas's shoulders. Unable to cross the room to comfort Cas, Dean thought about their bond for a moment. If he could feel Cas' emotions, could Cas feel his?

Dean started small, pushing through what he hoped was a feeling of comfort. He closed his eyes and imagined pulling Cas into a warm, comforting embrace. Dean opened his eyes and found Cas whipping his head up, their eyes locking instantly. Cas' head tilted to the side and Dean inhaled sharply, knowing that Cas had felt it.

Yet, as quick as Dean had made use of their bond, Cas quickly closed it off. Unsure of what Cas meant by his actions, Dean nodded and turned towards the door, exiting the room. He quickly found the stairs and made his up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Once Dean had a signal, he promptly swiped through his phone, pulling up Sam's number.

"Dean, how are things going over there?" Sam answered after the second ring.

"Sam. He got one. The Old Man got Inias." Dean wiped his hand over his mouth and hung his head. "I was too late getting here."

"You got there as fast as you could, Dean." Sam calmly replied, a valiant attempt at trying to comfort Dean. "I'm sure you saved a lot more of them by calling and getting Cas moving."

"Not enough, Sam." Dean leaned back against the wall and slid down it, sitting in the stair landing. "What's going on outside of here?"

"I'm not completely sure myself. I'm with Maddie's Pack, we're all in their safehouse. Bobby went to Kate's Pack, a couple of their members are out of town, but they called them to keep them out of town for an extra day or two. Rufus is with Garth's Pack, and they're all accounted for."

Dean let out a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear the old man's not had a chance to sow grief and chaos in the other packs."

"Well, it gets better. I was talking to Bobby before I called you. Annie was able to get John's permit revoked."

"Seriously?" Dean perked up and briefly contemplated running out of the bunker to help with any kind of manhunt.

"Seriously. Annie presented the evidence to the rest of the council that that Kubrick guy is on. They were apparently already pissed with Kubrick approving the permit without consulting with the rest of the group. Add on the fact that the evidence was clearly pointing to a Wendigo, not a Were or a pack."

"Cool, so state the obvious, obvious is recognized. Now we go after the bastard." The sound of steps on metal caused Dean to look down the stairs. "Since the permit is considered Null and Void, will that make what John did..."

Sam's side of the call remained quiet, and Dean pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call didn't drop. "...illegal kill. That's murder, Dean."

"Good." Dean closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. So we've already got people going after him?"

"Pretty much. Jody and Donna have already put out an APB, and I know they're personally on the move as well. John hurt a lot of people when he went dark side, Dean." Sam sighed.

"I think they're asking for assistance from the rest of the cryptid community. Specifically, the ones without weakness to silver, like Charlie and Ash, among others."

"As long as they're careful, the more, the merrier." Dean pushed himself back up to his feet. "I'm going to let the Pack know I'm heading out. Having a witch or two could be beneficial to the manhunt as well."

"I mean, don't let me stop you, Dean, but maybe you should stay in place. Cas and his Pack need you right now."

As though summoned, Cas appeared, looking up the stairs. Dean frowned. "I'll let you know, Sam. Keep me informed." Dean hung up the phone and looked at it in his palm. "Hiya, Cas."

"Hello, Dean." An awkward silence fell between them briefly, before Cas spoke up. "You're leaving?"

"I'm just getting in the way here, and if I'm out there, I can bring my father in. They revoked the permit, which means that killing Inias was illegal." Dean cringed at how he said that. "There's no way I can fix that, can I?"

Cas walked up the few steps between them. "I know what you meant, Dean. I know that hunters have their place in this world, we all do. And we know that some people are just evil." Cas hesitantly rested his hand on the side of Dean's neck.

"Cas, I'm sorry I wasn't here fast enough. I should have come right here, I should have..." Dean silenced as Cas placed a finger on his lips.

"There's nothing you could have done, Dean. I, nor the rest of the Pack, blame you." Cas removed his finger. "Inias wouldn't have let anything happen to our Aunt Amara."

"So you don't hate me?"

Cas stood up straight, the surprise evident on his face. "Why would I hate you?"

"When I tried to reach out to you through the bond?" Dean felt the blush rise on his cheeks and focused on the pattern in the steps.

Cas let out a sad chuckle. "You surprised me." Cas brought his other hand to rest on the other side of Dean's neck and pulled him in for a soft, sweet kiss. "You came to save us, Dean. You protected me and Amara."

"I had to, Cas." Dean rested his forehead against Cas'. "I heard that gunshot, and I froze."

Cas nodded slightly before dropping his hand to take Dean's. "Amara and Gabe want to talk to you. And I promise, they're not mad, they just have a lot of questions."

"I would if I were in their shoes too." Dean shook his head and smiled sadly at Cas. "Lead the way?"

…

To say that the warm feeling that Dean had pushed through their bond had been a surprise was an understatement. It had left Cas in shock, and he needed to slam down any mental barriers to keep himself composed. Cas wanted nothing more to experience the bond, to feel it and feed it and nurture it, but it didn't feel right to do so while standing next to Inias.

Inias, who wouldn't get to find out if Hayden, from Kate's Pack, returned any interest. Inias, who had lost his mother early, and was raised by Amara. Inias, who had grown up with Castiel, side by side.

Cas felt bad slamming Dean out, but at that moment, he couldn't handle two overwhelming emotions at once.

When Amara pulled him aside and asked him to go get Dean, he almost refused. Not because he didn't want to see Dean, but because it made him feel worse about being the one to live, and not Inias. However, knowing that Amara would be disappointed in him, he started the search for Dean, quickly finding him sitting on the stairs.

Once back with Amara and Gabe, the main thing on Cas' mind was the brief, but sweet, kiss the two had shared, and how he initiated it. Cas knew he should be listening to Dean explain about John, but he couldn't focus on the words coming out of Dean's moving lips.

"Castiel?" Amara asked, her eyebrow raised in interest. "Dean was telling us about his father. Did you catch any of it?"

"It's okay, Amara. Cas and I can talk about it at another time. You said you had other questions?" Dean took Cas' hand and gently squeezed it.

"If this question is too personal, I understand, but I have this need to know, much like Castiel, I'm sure." She paused and looked at Cas before looking back to Dean. "Are you a natural-born witch?"

"Yes, ma'am." Dean nodded.

"Your mother, I'm assuming."

Dean looked at Cas and nodded again. "Yeah. She was natural-born, as was her mother, and then there's magic woven throughout all of those branches. My brother and I can trace magic back so far in our line that we can go back to the beginning of written history." He turned to look at back at Amara, and Cas focused on her as well.

"That explains a lot." Amara smiled softly and rested her hand on Dean's shoulder. Cas tilted his head and felt anger build up inside of him. "Anna told me that she tried to tell you the significance of Castiel's fur?"

"She had mentioned something about Cas not being able to bond if he didn't want it. And then she had offered to let me in on a secret about his fur." The surprise must have shown on Cas' face, as Dean immediately apologized. "Sorry, Cas. It wasn't something I exactly asked to know."

"I'm not mad at you, Dean. I'm more surprised that she thinks it's okay to share Were Trade secrets."

"To be fair, she was using it to keep me from fighting our bond." Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

Cas felt his eyes go wide. "You wanted to fight the bond?"

"At the very beginning, yes, Cas." Dean turned to face Cas and grabbed his other hand. "You know how guilty I feel that I took your choice away from you."

"While it's commendable, and it does make me fonder of you, Dean, that's not something you would have had to worry about," Amara commented. She pulled their attention back to her. "Tell me, have you heard of the term 'Noćnivuk?'"

Cas let out a heavy sigh, knowing the lesson that Dean was about to receive.

"Can't say that I have," Dean replied.

"As a Cryptid nurse, I'm sure you're aware that all Werewolves have dormant magic. It's what we draw on to shift, what we use for our healing factor. It's what makes us who we are."

"I'm aware of that, yes."

"Noćnivuk or 'Night Wolves' are the wolves whose magic doesn't lay dormant, and can be drawn upon for other things." Amara smiled at Cas, and he let out another heavy sigh. "In our clan, if you have black fur, you're all but guaranteed to be a Noćnivuk."

"Dude, you can use magic?" Dean looked at Cas in awe.

Cas shook his head. "While I can, it's not what one would ever compare to a witch level of skill and training."

"You selling yourself short, Cas?"

"He's not exactly wrong, Dean. Castiel's magic is not like yours, but special in its own way." Amara clarified. "It's why he's our Den Protector."

"Part of why." Cas let go of Dean's hands and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm like a focus, for the Pack. They can - for lack of a better word - leech magic off of me when they're about to run out."

"So, like a conduit?" Dean offered.

"That's actually a pretty good comparison, Dean." Gabe finally spoke up after sitting quietly for a while. "It might also be one of the reasons why I give you a rough time. You see, Noćnivuk reach out for other magic users. Their power calls out for power. You can't give power if you don't have it or take it from somewhere."

"So, Cas can pull from my magic when we're together?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't understand what that has to do with our bond."

"Your magic is incredibly strong, Dean. I can feel it calling out to Castiel like Castiel's is calling to you. Even if you never healed him, the bond would have formed naturally. What you two have between you is profound and rare." Amara smiled at Cas, who looked down at his feet in response. "If you don't mind, Dean, Gabriel wanted to talk to you more about your father. There are some words I need to have with my nephew."

Dean cupped Cas' cheek before exiting the room behind Gabe. The small gesture sent a warm feeling through Cas' chest.

"Castiel?"

"Yes, Aunt Amara?" Cas looked up from the floor.

She tapped the side of her nose. "You're nervous."

"Dean was worried all this time about forcing the bond on me, and here I am, and I would have forced a bond on him eventually." Cas walked over and sat next to Amara.

"Castiel. Do you regret how much you've come to know Dean? How much you've let this grow between you?"

"Of course not. Dean has given me a choice every step of the way. But I can't help but feel like this is spiraling so quickly. We're moving at the speed of light when we both said we wanted to go slow." Cas rested his head in his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"The bond of a Noćnivuk and their partner is life long, sweet pup. The creation of the bond is rough, and it hurts, and there are growing pains. But at the same time, it is swift, it is sweet, and it is thorough." Amara gently rubbed Cas' back. "In the case of you and Dean, when he opened his bond to heal you, I doubt he knew that he was inviting your magic in."

"Great. So I basically locked Dean into a bond while I was sleeping." Cas scoffed. "He's going to hate me."

"Doubtful, Castiel. And as I mentioned before, you two would have drifted towards each other anyway. Certain magics call out to one another. Would it be as swift and quick like it has been?" Amara shook her head. "I doubt it. But that wouldn't be you, and I don't think that would be Dean."

Cas chuckled at that. "Are you saying that I move fast?"

"I'm saying that your heart knows what it wants, Castiel." Amara smiled softly before standing up. "Do not let your cousin's death be in vain. Survive, Castiel. Live and love."

"You make it sound so easy. Inias shouldn't have been there." Cas frowned. "He came running after me because he knew that I went running after you."

"All the more reason to honor his sacrifice." Amara walked towards the archway connecting to the room where Inias was still laid out for respect.

Cas waited until his Aunt left the room before standing up himself. Taking a sniff of the stale bunker air, he found Dean's scent and headed in that direction. He turned down the hallway, stopping in what Gabriel had gotten converted or fixed up into living quarters. Continuing down, he stopped in front of a room filled with several bunk beds. On one, Anna sat, sobbing into Dean's shoulder, their backs to the door.

"You know, I know you think I hate him." Gabe's voice caused Cas to jump in place. "But he is a good person."

"You admitted that you're the one that's constantly giving him shit, Gabe." Cas rolled his eyes and leaned on the doorframe. "Do you believe all of what Aunt Amara said?"

"I believe you have the opportunity that others only dream of. It's not unheard of, but it's rare. And the fact that it's attached to someone that good looking?" Gabe mocked a chef's kiss before turning serious. "In all seriousness, I get your fears."

"Say this situation was you and Meg, instead of me and Dean." Cas crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you really understand my fear?"

"Meg and I are not an apt comparison."

"Humor me." Cas rested his head against the door frame as he continued to watch Anna and Dean, only catching brief parts of their conversation.

Gabe let out a sigh. "Meg and I are like Mentos and Diet Cola. Mix us together, and it's explosive in all the right ways."

"And messy and gross afterward?"

"No. Maybe. Stop, you're knocking me off my train of thought." Gabe paused. "But, just like Diet Coke and Mentos, we're boring as separate people."

Cas rolled his head to the side and looked at Gabe. "I disagree, but continue."

"If it weren't for Naomi arranging for us to get together, it wouldn't have happened. Not naturally. She wouldn't have looked at me twice, and I never would have thought I stood a chance. Our chemistry was forced together, but it ended up working out for the best." Gabe poked Cas' cheek and turned his head back towards Dean. "Your chemistry is natural and flowing freely. But it almost seems like you're fighting it. Let it happen, Cassie."

"Is it natural if it's jumpstarted?" Cas questioned as Dean gave Anna a bear hug.

"Yeah. Just because it's moving a little faster than you anticipated doesn't make it any less natural." Gabe hesitated before speaking again. "You know, he does fit nicely into the pack dynamics, even if he isn't a wolf." Their sister stood and walked towards them. "Go get'em, tiger." Gabe clapped Cas on the shoulder before holding his arm out for Anna.

Cas turned his attention back into the room and watched as Dean got to his feet and stretched. He felt like a creeper and prepared to walk away when Dean turned around, and their eyes met. "Cas."

"Hello, Dean." Cas pushed himself off the doorframe just in time to be enveloped in Dean's arms. "What's going on?"

"I know you can close off our connection, but I don't know how to do the same." Dean pulled back enough to look into Cas' eyes. "I could feel your emotions, mostly of fear and anxiety. And I knew it was because of me."

"Can I explain?"

Dean shook his head. "You don't have to. All I feel right now is the amount of relief flowing from you."

"But, you were worried." Cas cupped Dean's face, stroking his thumb over the apples of Dean's cheeks. "I'm sorry I did that to you." Cas surprised himself by leaning back in and kissing Dean again. He was even more surprised - pleasantly so - when Dean deepened the kiss.

He didn't know or cared who stopped the kiss, but Cas found himself wanting more, chasing after Dean's lips.

"Cas." Dean moved his head to the side and kissed Cas' cheek. "If we keep this up, we're going to do something very private in a not so private area." Dean carded his fingers through Cas' hair, and Cas was briefly reminded of Dean stroking his fur while in wolf form. "And it's probably not a good time to do this."

"I don't understand." Cas tilted his head, frowning. "Do you not want me?"

Dean laughed heartedly, and Cas relaxed a little. "That's the furthest thing from the truth, Cas." He rested their foreheads together. "I want our first time to be us. On our terms, in one of our beds. Not a quick fuck out of horniness and desperation in your safe house."

"Fair enough." Cas readjusted and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist as Dean wrapped his arms around Cas' neck. "We continue to let us grow, we keep nurturing what we have, and when we're past all this..." Cas stole another kiss. "We find time for us."

"Sounds like a plan, Cas. I–" Dean's phone rang, causing Dean to jump in surprise. "I guess I have signal here." He pulled it out and smiled. "Hey Sam, what's the news?" Cas listened to the warbling of Sam coming through the earpiece. With each phrase, Dean's smile turned into a frown.

"Dean?" Cas lightly squeezed Dean's sides, hoping to provide him some comfort.

"Sammy, I'm with Cas. I'm going stop you where you're at and put you on speakerphone, so you don't have to repeat everything twice." Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and held out the phone between them. "Okay Sam, go ahead."

"Alright, so what I've already said. Jody and Donna haven't found our father yet. What they have found is the trail he's leaving behind." Cas perked up at Sam's words and looked at Dean. "He's using his skills from his stint in the military, and his time at war, to stay hidden. John's doing a good job of making himself scarce, and he's constantly staying at least one step in front of them."

"Basically, he knows that the permit's been voided," Dean commented, and Sam confirmed with a hum.

"Sam, you said he's left a trail?" Cas asked, holding his breath, as he hoped it wasn't what Cas thought Sam meant.

"Besides Inias, he's killed a human officer, a vampire, and a vetala. Which will end up killing another vetala as they were a mated pair. At each scene, he's left the same, exact message." Sam's voice was trembling, and Dean lost all color from his face.

"What's the message, Sammy?" Dean moved the phone out to the side as Cas pulled him back into a tight embrace.

Sam's swallow was audible. "The long and short of it? The Old Man is here on a job, and he's staying until the job is finished. He's been offered a large amount by one Naomi Novak, and he intends on collecting it. John is demanding the children of Naomi Novak, or he's going to continue to take out innocent people until he finds them."

Cas' knees went out from under him, and he barely registered Dean calling his name or calling out for Gabe and Anna.

The world spun around him. And then it was dark.

#profoundnet #spncreatorsdaily #spn fic #destiel fanfic #deancas #au - modern with magic #au - creatureverse #witch!dean #nurse!dean #werewolf!cas #non-omegaverse #tw: minor character death #rating: m #nickel writes

22 notes · View notes

okay-j-hannah · 5 years ago

Text

Broken to Whole

Supernatural : Prompt

Sibling!Winchester

Setting: During mid to end Season 3 (Dean has his contract set for Hell)

Word Count: 2263

Warnings: There’s quite a bit of blood and some moments of terror, but it turns to funny and fluffy bits with the Winchesters right quick

Request: “1 with sibling!winchester reader? ok so what im thinking (which you can totally say no to) is that the reader and her brothers (sam and dean) are in a new town fighting a new threat and this threat gets to the reader which lands her in the hospital. her brothers are going insane waiting in the hospital or like a week until one day they’re watching over her and she wakes up?” - @aliciasayshi

Prompt:

“How long have you guys been standing around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

A/N: After receiving an almost fatal blow, the Winchesters race you to the hospital where they fight with you and your immense fear of anything medical

Part Two: Take a Break

(Y/N) was panting ridiculously through gritted teeth, attempting to conceal her cries of agony as blood continued to slip from her cut onto the table she laid on.

“(Y/N)? Oh my God, stay right there!” Dean said, running to her. He grabbed the nearest supply of towels and cloths and started piling them on her stomach and she yelled out, “Sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. Hang on."

Dean undid her restraints and instructed her to hold the towels in place while he helped Sam, who was on a table beside her in his own straps. (Y/N) applied pressure regardless of the shockwaves it was sending throughout her body.

Sam went to tie the now unconscious monster down as Dean went back to (Y/N) and slowly removed the cloth to get a look at the damage, "Son of a bitch. That’s deep, (Y/N/N). We’ll have to go to the hospital."

She grimaced, and tears started to pour down her face, "I really don’t like the hospital, Dean."

He winced along with her, sympathy pain flowing his features, "You’re going to need stitches. And I bet nothing is sterile in here, you could get an infection or some other crap."

(Y/N) continued to cry as Dean pushed against her cut, "Dean, I really, really don’t like the hospital. Please! Just stitch it yourself.”

He shook his head and looked towards his brother, who came over with the same pained expression on his face.

”(Y/N), we need to get you help, now. You’re bleeding out everywhere. We don’t have the proper equipment and besides - that cut is deeper than any regular stitches can fix,“ Sam stated.

And as the painful exhaustion started to blur the edges of her vision, Dean scooped her up, regardless of the blood getting onto him, and they quickly got out of the house and into the car.

Despite her protests, she was put in the impala, crying and squealing with the pain. She tried her best to handle it with grace, but by the time Sam started driving, the bumps of the road enraged her wound.

She clutched at Dean’s hand as he held her close, hushing her along the way. And all she could remember was physically praying that she’d pass out.

And thankfully she did.

~~~

When she finally came to she was in a light blue hospital gown, laying in a white hospital bed, covered in clear hospital tubes, and smelling like a bleached, disinfected hospital patient.

And she was not happy about it at all; her heart monitor starting to raise as her blood pumped faster.

Next to her, sitting in a chair, was Sam. His head was on the edge of the bed and his hand was inches from hers. Dean was up and pacing the room, back and forth, right in front of her bed.

"Now that I’ve received medical attention, can I please leave this hell hole?"

Sam jumped up and scooted his chair in closer and Dean fumbled in his mid-turn and somehow managed to make it to the bed without falling.

"How do you feel?” Sam questioned.

“Are you in pain at all?” Dean added.

“How long have you guys been standing around my bed like a bunch of creepers?” (Y/N) tried to sit up more, but failed miserably, wincing, “I’m fine. Can we leave, please?”

The brothers looked at each other and then back at her with contorted eyebrows and serious expressions.

“You were hurt bad, (Y/N/N),” Sam muttered. “They had to take you to the surgical room to stitch you up."

Dean made his way to her other side and rested a hand on the elevated part of her bed, "You probably would have bled to death if we hadn’t gotten you here."

"And I’m thankful for all the modern medicine and blah, blah, blah. Seriously though, when can I leave?”

“It’s just a hospital, (Y/N/N). Why do you hate it so much? You seem fine whenever we do cases,” Sam asked.

She took a deep breath, “Bad memories, alright? I don’t like being the patient in this situation. Visiting a hospital is fine. Staying in one? Count me out.” She attempted to swing her legs out of the bed and Dean held her down by the shoulders.

“Not today, sweetheart. You need to heal. You’re not going anywhere."

She gave each of them a moment of weakness gaze, her eyes filled with fear and pleading. Her heart rate was still raised, and her blood pressure and breathing had elevated.

"I’m sorry, (Y/N). But this is your best option,” Sam muttered.

She begrudgingly moved her gaze to her toes sticking up from the blanket and her eyes began to sting. She twiddled with her fingers again and bit the inside of her cheek. Finally, one of the monitors began to beep as an alarm and a nurse came running in.

“I’m sorry, boys, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re causing her distress."

At that thought (Y/N)’s vitals seemed to skyrocket even higher if that was possible. She moved her tear-filled eyes to the nurse and pleaded.

"No, no, please don’t take them away from me.”

Sam got up from his seat and went over to whisper to the nurse, “She’s just a little afraid of hospitals. Us being here is what’s actually keeping her somewhat grounded."

The nurse gave (Y/N) an up and down look and then back at Sam, "I see. Well, if those numbers keep rising then I’m going to have to sedate her. She needs to be relaxed for her to properly heal…"

"We understand. If we could stay here it would really help her, honest."

Dean went down and clasped one of (Y/N)’s shaking hands, trying to steady it. He eventually had to put both his hands around her one and she felt comfort in the pressure. She squeezed back and stared at the ceiling as her pulse started to lower.

The nurse gave a slow nod and threw her hands in the air, "Whatever works for you. I’ve got cases that I need to file, if you would excuse me."

Once they were alone again Sam came to (Y/N)’s other side and took her right hand in his, "Don’t worry, (Y/N/N). We’re not going anywhere. We’ve got time.” He looked at Dean when he said that, but (Y/N) didn’t notice.

It took her almost the entire day to get her heart rate to a normal range, all the while holding onto Sam and Dean. They took turns watching over her as the other went to get food or take a small break. She complied to all that the doctors required her to do: shots, medicines, check-ups. As long as one of the brothers were there to hold her hand.

It wasn’t until the last part of the second day that she was actually able to have a normal conversation with the two of them.

“You know, for a hunter, you’re a bit of a softy,” Dean mumbled, his faced smashed into the bed as he sat there waiting for something to do.

She actually responded this time, “Don’t give me that crap. Everyone’s scared of something."

"Dean’s scared of planes,” Sam interjected from his laptop.

Dean raised his head and glared at him, almost with a smolder on his tired features, “Yeah, well, Sammy’s afraid of clowns."

"Really?” (Y/N) said. “Planes and clowns and you think you’re some big tough hunters?"

Sam lifted his eyes from his work, "You’re scared of hospitals and we’re in and out of them weekly."

There was a silence for a while as (Y/N) closed her eyes and Dean stared at Sam, flitting his head towards the resting girl. Sam got the message to egg her on.

"Is there anything else you’re scared of?"

"Like I said, everyone is scared of something."

Dean gave a puzzled look, "So it’s only hospitals?"

"And things associated with them. Needles, surgical equipment, hand sanitizer, rubbing alcohol, stethoscopes… you name it."

Sam laughed, "That’s a lot, (Y/N/N)."

"Oh, and haunted houses,” she was on a roll now, her eyes still closed. “Can’t stand them. You know when I was fifteen I tried to go into one and I freaked and blacked out in the line."

"In the line?” Dean asked, finally starting to sit up.

“Yep. And I screamed and cried the entire time. The only reason I was able to move through it was because my friends dragged me."

Not wanting to spoil the nice time they were suddenly having, the brothers pressed on with the topic.

"What is it about haunted houses that you don’t like?” Sam asked, shutting his laptop. “They’re supposed to be fun.”

“Fun? Don’t be ridiculous. What is so great about those freak filled horror fests? I just don’t like being scared, that’s all."

Sam chuckled and scooted his chair closer to her bed, "But a haunted house is basically like all the places we go for hunts. Why do you enjoy one but despise the other?”

“Yeah, these real-life monsters come at you all the time and you never look scared when that’s happening,” Dean mentioned.

She finally opened her eyes and found them both gazing at her fondly. This was new, full and undivided attention.

“Why do you guys want to know?”

“Curiosity,” Dean said. “Just wanting to get to know you more."

“We haven’t seen you in years, (Y/N),” Sam shared a look towards his brother, “We just want to be close again.”

She thought about it for a minute. They wanted to get to know her.

"I don’t like the dark either.”

“Yeah, Bobby was saying something about that to us earlier,” Sam said, remembering when they had called him to update about (Y/N)’s condition. “You don’t like to sleep. Is the dark part of that?”

(Y/N) moved her eyes to her sterile blanket, “Partly, I guess. I don’t like the dreams that I have."

Both the boys leaned in, their silence begging for more. And she sensed that.

"Nightmares, more like. Just a reminder of when I was younger."

Sam caught a glance with his brother before cautiously moving forward, “Can we ask what your nightmares are about?”

(Y/N) pulled out her hands from under the blanket and played with her fingertips. She ignored the question for a long time before Sam took one of her twitching hands into his and said, "You know you can trust us, (Y/N/N). What is it going to take for you to believe us?”

She thought about her angels, her demons, her nightmares, her childhood. It was all so much information that she had kept to herself for so long.

Running off to live with Bobby was the best decision she’d ever made, even if it took her from her brothers for over fifteen years. She wasn’t sure the boys were ready to hear all of that. Or if she was ready to tell it all.

With a deep breath she pulled away her hand from Sam’s grasp and stretched, “I’m starved. Anyone up for burgers?"

Sam sat back and gave an exasperated sigh, showing the defeat across his face. They had gotten so close, and (Y/N) knew it. She was letting them in too far.

"Not so fast, kid. You’re not getting away that easily,” Dean said as he leaned back on two of the chairs legs. “You’ve been wiggling your way out of every question we ask. Now we don’t want to drill you or demand answers, but don’t you think we deserve to know something?” He let his chair fall onto all fours, “We’ve been waiting here."

He was right. They’d been patient with her. She was the one being stubborn and afraid.

"I just don’t want to push you away,” she whispered. “What if you don’t like the truth?”

Sam held a short smile, “(Y/N), we aren’t just going to up and leave. I don’t know what crazy thing happened to you, but the inevitable in this situation does not involve Dean and I leaving you. We’re here to stay."

Dean nodded in agreement, "We’ve all got demons, (Y/N).”

“Who’s Lilith?”

Both the brothers were taken aback.

“How do you know about Lilith?” Sam asked.

She had to think quick, “Uh… Bobby mentioned her. I know she’s some kind of demon."

Dean smirked, "She’s the bitch that’s holding my contract. And the one who’s after Sam."

(Y/N) frowned slightly, "I guess I don’t know as much about you two as I thought."

"She’s one of the original demons directly from Lucifer,” Sam explained. “She sees me as a threat because I… uh - well, I used to have psychic powers."

That gave her something to be startled about, "Psychic powers? Wait… what?”

Dean laughed, “Yellow eyes. He’s a demon that had a plan that involved burning people alive and bleeding demon blood into the mouths of babies. It gave them… powers."

"Yellow eyes? You mean Azazel? Bobby talked about him too… he’s the demon that you two were tracking for the past few years. The one that killed..."

The brothers nodded, and Sam muttered, "Until Dean killed him. And my powers stopped."

She twiddled her fingers, "He’s the one that killed mom." There was a silence that confirmed that for her, "But if your powers are gone why is Lilith so threatened by you?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Something about how I was chosen by Azazel to be his successor. I was the only one left standing out of the psychic children. But yellow eyes was stopped before he could get me to do anything else."

(Y/N) smiled, "Sounds like you guys have been through a lot."

Dean rubbed his hands together and laughed, "You got that right."

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

50 notes · View notes

eyes-of-fanfiction-green · 5 years ago

Text

Fight for Us (Part 1)

Firefighter!Dean x EMT!Castiel

MASTERLIST

!PART 2 here!

!PART 3 here!

Summary: Dean and Cas are put on a house fire call. But nothing goes to plan and Cas’ worst nightmare comes true.

Warning: fire, burns, angst

A/N : okay, so, yesterday I was driving home and saw a fire truck race through the intersection, and literally every single man in that truck was beautiful, it wasn’t even fair. So, that’s where this idea came from.... because after that I need another Firefighter!Dean fic.

“Hey Cas!”

Cas turned to look over at the bright, green-eyed fireman approaching him in confident strides. Dean flashed him a wide grin and came up to the ambulance, leaning lazily against its side, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hello Dean.”

“Third false alarm in one day, man, we must be going for a record.”

Closing the re-packed med kit with a *click*, Cas hummed in affirmation before turning to look at the taller man. “I believe you are right. The universe is toying with us today.”

“Oh definitely.” Dean took his fire helmet off, wiping away the sweat gathering underneath, and smiled disarmingly at Cas just as they heard another call come through the radio.

“Winchester! Pack it up! We gotta go!”

“On it!” Dean slapped his helmet back on and gave Cas a wink before running towards the firetruck, calling back to Cas over his shoulder. “I’m off after this one, Blue Eyes! Let’s grab dinner!”

Cas chuckled as he quickly finished re-loading the ambulance with his colleagues, glancing up for a moment to watch his boyfriend’s truck pull away and head down the street, lights flashing and horns blaring.

“It’s a date.”

---------------------------------------

Dean felt the tension in the truck skyrocket as they rounded the corner to see a two-story home, blazing with flames, smoke bellowing out from the windows and roof.

“Shit.”

“Benny, Winchester, man the hose. Garth and Jo, check the foundations. I need a list of all occupants for this house and a list of who’s out. Go go go! Hustle it!” Bobby started yelling instructions as the firefighters quickly poured out of the truck each moving with precision and accuracy.

Dean and Benny started pulling out the hose just as a crying woman came bursting out of the house, a baby and young child in her arms. “PLEASE! HELP ME! HELP!”

Dean and Jo immediately started sprinting towards the woman, “Is there anyone else still in the house?!” Dean called loudly as they ran towards the woman, the heat of the fire washing over them in waves as they drew nearer.

“My husband! My husband! He-he’s still in the house! Oh my god!” the woman sobbed, coughing against the ashes in her throat, tears streaming trails through the soot on her face.

Jo quickly took the two children from her and began ushering her towards the roadside as the ambulance finally came into view.

“Bobby! I got an adult male still inside, requesting permission to go in!”

Bobby’s voice crackled loudly out of the radio transmitter, “Partner up with Garth then go inside.” Dean waved hurriedly to his compatriot as they both started heading into the house, pulling their masks up to cover their faces. “But go quickly, this house is going up fast. I want you boys in and out in five minutes! You understand?”

“Yes sir!” Garth and Dean chorused into their radios.

Dean glanced back one last time, just catching a glimpse of Cas jogging towards the mother with a med kit and oxygen mask, before he turned back towards the house and followed Garth in.

-----------------------

Three minutes in and Dean had moved on to the second floor, Garth continuing the search on the first. The flames were devouring everything within the house: the walls, the floors, the wooden furniture and the sagging couch. Pictures on the walls were turning black from the smoke that was clouding Dean’s vision.

The second floor was even worse. The fire must have originated upstairs. Probably an electrical shortage, Dean automatically noted.

He checked the first door at the top of the stairs. Nothing. Second door, nothing.

He could hear Bobby yelling through the radio to pull out, but Dean only had one door left to try. He tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge. Crap.

He leaned his shoulder into it ramming against the door, once, twice. On the third time it flung open, debris flying in all directions at the force. Bingo.

The husband was laying on the floor, hands cover his head as harsh coughs racked his breath.

“I got you, dude. I got you.”

Dean quickly radioed in to Bobby, “I got him chief. Heading out now.”

“Hurry up Winchester! This house is about to come down on your ears!”

“Yes sir!”

Dean crouched down by the man’s shaking form, taking in the wheezing of his breath. “Shit.” Dean knew the man’s lungs must be severely compromised so he quickly yanked off his oxygen mask and pulled it down over the man’s face.

Dean lifted him up into a fireman’s carry and pounded towards the stairs. But by now the flames had completely engulfed the staircase. There was no possibility they could get down that way.

“Crap. Crap. Crap.” Dean muttered to himself as felt the smoke burn in his throat. “Not good. Not good.”

He quickly headed into the first room, noting the window at the far side. “There we go…”

Dean had just started to head for the window when he heard a roaring crack just above their heads. “Oh no…” The roof was caving in. He knew they wouldn’t make it to the window in time, so Dean quickly slid the man off his shoulder and to the ground, quickly laying on top of him and wrapping his coat around the man’s body just as the roof came crashing down around them.

A feeling of icy white-hot pain surged through his body, and then everything when black.

————————————————————————-

Part 2 here

@22sarah08 @cocklesbelli

There will only be two or three parts for this one, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, or for all my fics and comment below what you think!

10 notes · View notes

sixdegreesofsamson · 6 years ago

Link

A nice interview with some interesting quotes toward the end. If you don’t feel like visiting the link, I’ve posted the article after the break:

In many ways, 2018 was a banner year for Elias.

The WWE’s resident acoustic guitar-wielding, antagonistic, surly superstar released his debut EP (aptly titled “WWE: Walk With Elias”) last year. The bearded and burly brute came within an eyelash of winning the Intercontinental Championship belt off Seth Rollins in front of 15,000-plus at “Money In The Bank.” The hulking harmonizer performed his always-original tunes before hordes of adoring fans from Manchester, England to Madison Square Garden.

“Buenos Aires was an atmosphere nobody in the history of the WWE has ever experienced,” he said. “It was (a more electric) atmosphere than probably anybody in all of rock and roll has ever felt.”

As memorable as last year was, Elias is expecting bigger and better things in 2019. And he’s hoping to ignite his best year ever in Memphis. He will be part of the star-studded card when Monday Night Raw invades FedExForum on Monday. The show technically kicks off at 6:30 p.m., while the live television broadcast (on the USA Network) begins at 7 p.m.

“The performances need to get bigger, more grand and in front of more people,” Elias told The Commercial Appeal. “Secondly, as hard as it may be to believe, I have not yet captured any sort of championship title in my career. Now, I’m not out here plotting my way to steal the title on Monday night, but I’ve got no desire to go the long route.

“Whatever opportunities come my way, I’ll make the most of them.”

For the time being, Elias will have to share the FedExForum stage with a host of other WWE superstars, including 13-time WWE Champion John Cena, Raw Women’s Champion (and former UFC star) Ronda Rousey and current Intercontinental title-holder Dean Ambrose.

Elias’ popularity among his contemporaries in the WWE’s squared circle was one of the few things that did not skyrocket in 2018. In fact, his year culminated with a “Miracle On 34th Street Fight” against Bobby Lashley on Christmas Eve.

“I’ve had to deal with Bobby Lashley the majority of 2018, and it’s taken years off my life, I’m sure,” said Elias, who counts the likes of “Macho Man” Randy Savage, Jake “The Snake” Roberts and Shawn Michaels among the professional wrestlers he gravitated toward growing up. “But to finally get in there and do a little Christmas street fight where I dropped him on a bunch of Legos, blasted him in the face with a fire extinguisher and rolled a bowling ball into his (nether region), it felt great.

“A good way to end the year for Elias.”

The members of the Raw roster aren’t the only ones Elias openly bashes. Maintaining the on-camera persona he has spent years perfecting, he waxes poetic (in a derogatory manner) about the people he meets and places he goes on “The Ballad of Every Town I’ve Been To.”

“In that song, I say I’m searching for a town that’s not such a disgrace,” said Elias – ever in character. “Throughout my career, there’ve been few and far between. There are some out there, and I’m hoping Memphis proves not to be a disgrace.

“It’s not necessarily me being insulting. I am the living truth. I’m going up there and speaking the truth. Whether people like it or not, I can’t change who I am. I have to speak my truth and sometimes it can hurt. (But) that’s Elias for you.”

The always-quotable Elias

On John Cena: “John Cena has been a thorn in my side almost my entire career. It seems like every big event, whatever it may be, he seems to pop up and make life tough for Elias. It probably comes down to jealousy. There are a lot of similarities in our careers: the music, the crowd (reactions), things like that. But the difference is our mentalities. He’s got the ‘never give up’ mentality. It’s a very self-involved mentality. Whereas, I’m saying, ‘Walk with Elias. I’ll take care of you.’ It’s just clashing philosophies.”

On his musical process: “I kind of wait til I’m in the city, wherever I’ll be that night for that show. I’ll take in the sights and scenes and whatever’s going on there and start formulating what I’m going to write. (As far as the music goes), that’s just me picking up the guitar and letting loose. Going wherever my mind and my ears take me.”

On Memphis: “Memphis gets me right off the bat because it’s got such a rich music history. Elvis (Presley), B.B. King. These guys are legends. Of course, everything in music is influenced by someone else. I used to fall asleep listening to (Eric) Clapton as a teenager, and he was influenced by guys like B.B. King. And now I’m influencing legions of people.”

#elias #elias samson #elias wwe #walk with elias #wwe raw #walk with elias - he'll take care of you...#...interesting

10 notes · View notes

thewnchstrs · 6 years ago

Text

Help Me Help You

Pairing: SamXReader

Disclaimers: drug abuse, withdrawal, vomiting, fluff

Word Count: 2,854

A/N: I’m finally back off of hiatus!! Sorry this took so long to get up, but I think I’m finally back into the swing of things :)

Masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I wasn’t exactly sure when it started or what injury I’d had that was bad enough for Sam to insist that I be taken to the hospital. Whether it was that time back in Phoenix when I snapped my ankle running from a werewolf, or the time I stepped on a piece of rusted metal at Bobby’s salvage yard because I was dumb enough to think I’d be fine without shoes. Whatever it may have been, I wish it hadn’t gotten to this point.

All I knew was that I’d been practically surviving on them for close to a year now just hoping along the way that somehow I’d be able to keep up the supply. It worked up until today, the day my lucky finally began to run out.

I rolled the pills around on my palm, taking in the shape of them. How the last two slid across my hand. My body ached for them, but I had to remind myself it had only been six hours since I last used.

I knew it was starting to become dangerous. The pills were used in the beginning for pain management, but as time wore on I used them more and more frequently. It helped me cope better with things that would usually tear me apart. A bad hunt, anger, an occasional argument with Sam.

Sam.

The one person I couldn’t bear to think about as I tossed my head back, throwing the pills to the back of my throat, swallowing them dry. Their little bodies clanging against each other as they traveled down my throat. I could practically see them falling falling falling as they burst apart, releasing the contents inside. Like a firework of opioid powder.

I opened my eyes again, looking down at the empty bottle in my hand as I twisted the cap back on, returning it to its hiding place: a sock at the bottom of my duffel bag.

I knew I couldn’t just go out and get a refill on the pills like I had in the past. They would become suspicious, me coming in for a prescription refill that was supposed to last a month but it had barely been two weeks? Not gonna slide.

You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Y/N.

The voice in my head scolded. It sounded alarmingly like Sam.

You’re going to get yourself up and killed if you’re not careful.

I didn’t care. Usually, I would have. The me from a year ago would have shaken her head and wagged her finger. This was not her, she was not this person she is now.

However, I couldn’t find it in me to care- already feeling the effects of the drug as it grabbed me softly by the hand and slowly pulled me from reality.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A hunt three days away in Jefferson City was the last thing on my mind as I stuffed my things into my duffel bag on top of the empty pill bottle that seemed to have a tether attached to me. I found myself checking the bottle for more pills inside nearly every half an hour as if, by some miracle, it would refill itself.

“Hey, you ready to go?” A voice asked from behind me. I nearly threw the bottle back into the bag as I quickly zipped it up. Sam watched me with his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Sorry you just, you scared me.” I said, trying to quickly come up with a lie. He slowly nodded, having to accept the excuse for now.

“Well Dean’s gonna lose his mind if we spend anymore time here than on the road. Lets get goin’.”

As if on cue, the roar of the Impala came to life from the garage, signaling Dean was going to leave with or without us. I knew then that I had two options: find a place to refill the pills without suspicion from Sam and Dean. Or, I could tough it out for the time being.

However, I knew that would be easier said than done.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I was pretty sure I was already experiencing two effects of withdrawal four hours into our drive. My head spun as I laid it back against the seat, closing my eyes to keep the ceiling of the car from flip flopping. Every time I thought I was beginning to feel better, I would courageously open my eyes to be hit with a pang of nausea.

It was like the world’s worst hangover.

I leaned my head against the cool window, my arms wrapped around my midsection as the car jerked and swerved across the road. Dean’s reckless driving doing nothing to soothe my stomach.

Then, it became too much to handle. I felt bile inch its way up my throat, acid clawing at my esophagus. “Dean, stop the car.”

“We just stopped, Y/N. Can’t you wait another hour?” Dean asked, no intentions of stopping. Sam quickly turned around to me, hearing my change in tone.

“Dean, she doesn’t look too good.”

Dean’s eyes shot up to the rear view mirror, taking in the sight of my pale, sweaty face. He swerved to the side of the road without hesitation.

I barely made it out of the car when I landed on my hands and knees on the gravel and violently emptied my stomach, my body convulsing as it tried to get rid of everything I had in me.

Sam jumped from the car and ran toward me, his footsteps coming closer and closer when before I knew it he was pulling my hair back for me.

Once the nausea had finally gone away, I sat back against the car, wiping away the sweat that beaded on my forehead. Sam crouched down next to me, saying something to Dean about water but I couldn’t hear him. His voice quiet compared to the pounding of my temples.

“Hey baby are you alright?” Sam asked, feeling my forehead. “Jesus, Y/N you’re burning up.”

Dean returned with a water bottle in hand, uncapped it and handed it off to Sam who helped me take slow sips from it, the icy water numbing my throat.

“We need to get a motel room, her temperature is too high, Dean.” Sam said, looking over to Dean whose eyes nervously searched my face.

“No,” I said sternly, shaking my head. I was not going to hold us back from a hunt just because I was stupid and reckless. “We have a case- people are dying.”

I slowly tried to stand on wobbly feet, Sam’s arms held out in case my legs decided to give out.

“Sorry Y/N, I have to side with Sammy on this one. It’s another fourteen hours until we get to Jefferson City. You’re in no shape to stay in a car that long-”

“I said it once and I’ll say it again,” I said, knowing for a fact I was not at all intimidating hunched over my own vomit. “people are dying. And I’ll be damned if I’m the reason why. We need to go.”

Sam pressed his lips together in a tight line, him and his brother sharing a conversation of eyes before Sam turned to me, “Alright. We’ll go. But if this happens again, we’re getting a motel.” He said softly. I knew he just wanted what was best for me.

As he helped me back into the car, he pushed the hair from my sticky forehead. “Try to get some sleep, okay?” He pressed his lips to my fever ridden head, making my heart ache. He passed me the water bottle before shutting the door.

“If you have to stop, tell me to stop Y/N.” Dean said as he slid into the car. “I don’t need you blowing chunks in my car.”

I rolled my eyes, settling back into the seat as the car roared to life once again. I knew I had to pull myself together if I wanted to survive these next few days.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam’s POV

Y/N slept on and off for the rest of the ride to Missouri, her body restlessly trying to fight the fever that radiated off of her body. She sweat through her clothes, making my fear skyrocket. Dean reassured me it was her body’s way of trying to cool her down.

By the time we pulled into the motel parking lot, Y/N was finally fast asleep. I subconsciously watched carefully for the slow rise and fall of her chest, reaching over the seat to lightly feel her head. “She’s still warm. I’ll carry her in.”

Dean propped the motel room door open as I brought her inside, carefully laying her on the bed farthest from the door. From the bathroom, I ran a small wash cloth under cold water, bringing it back to the bed where I sat next to her, dabbing her forehead. It broke my heart to see her so sick- sure, the occasional cold but this was different, something so out of the ordinary it didn’t quite make sense.

“What do you think’s wrong?” I asked Dean, not taking my eyes off of Y/N who curled in on herself as she slept. “She’s been fine the past few days...doesn’t this seem like it’s coming up out of nowhere?”

Dean shook the bags off his shoulder and onto the empty bed. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Sam. Maybe something she ate? We haven’t been on the road in a while, it’s probably just catching up to her.” Dean didn’t seem too worried about it which would typically ease my doubt, but this time I couldn’t shake the feeling something was really wrong.

“Yeah...yeah maybe you’re right.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I couldn’t sleep to say the least. I tried, hours on end to lull myself into unconsciousness but every time I was nearly there- teetering on the edge of sleep, I was jolted awake by every sudden move Y/N would make.

Eventually, I realized sleep wasn’t going to come easily. I rolled off the bed, careful of Y/N, as I pulled our duffel bags from the corner of the room, sorting the clean from the dirty clothes. The washer in the lobby practically calling my name.

I unzipped Y/N’s bag, pulling out a few of the vomit-stained items I threw into a bag in hopes to keep the smell trapped so Dean wouldn’t cry about Baby’s upholstery.

I dug through the bag, blindly swiping for clothes when I grabbed something hard. I pulled it from the bag and held it under the moonlight coming in through the window as I fished through the material.

A pill bottle stuffed inside a sock.

An empty pill bottle stuffed inside a sock.

Slowly turning the bottle in my hand I read the prescription, confirming my fears that it was the same prescription she was given for her stitches nearly two weeks ago. Medication that was supposed to last close to a month, if longer.

My heart sank, the overwhelming feeling of anger and betrayal, hurt and guilt. My eyes scanned over Y/N, a pang sent straight to my heart. Why didn’t she tell me?

I threw the bag aside as I leaned against the wall, running a hand through my hair when Dean opened the door to the bathroom, using a towel to dry his hair. “How’s she holdin’ up?”

“Just perfect,” I scoffed. How could I have not known? Why didn’t she tell me? She tells me everything.

“What is it?” he asked. I threw the bottle to him and he caught it before it hit his abdomen. “I don’t understand.” Dean said, throwing it back.

“She isn’t sick, Dean. She’s going through withdrawal.”

Dean stood silently, every bit as confused as I was, “don’t you think we would have notice if she was abusing her pills?” Dean asked, not wanting to believe what he was hearing anymore than I did.

“Dean, this is a month’s supply and it’s all gone!” I nearly shouted, making Y/N stir in the bed.

“Don’t wake her up, alright? You two can talk about this when she’s coherent.” Dean said, trying to keep his calm composure. I knew this freaked him out too, but I knew she needed sleep. However, there was no way this would go un-discussed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/N’s POV

It was dark when I woke up, the blinds drawn tightly closed to keep the early dawn from pouring through the windows. I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes and when I pulled my hands away I was just able to make out Sam sitting at the table across from me, his head in his hands as he stared at the table.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, not looking at me. Not a good sign.

“I’m okay,” I said cautiously, trying to read his body language. He was obviously upset about something, but other than that, he was a closed book. “Are you okay?”

He sat silently for what felt like an eternity before pulling something small and cylindrical from his back pocket, tossing it to me. My heart pounded as I picked up the orange bottle that once gave me such an adrenaline rush but now just felt like it weighed a million pounds.

I couldn’t meet Sam’s eyes even in the dark room. I was so ashamed, so mad at myself for letting this carry on for so long.

“Sam,” I said quietly, not trusting my words because I knew I would break down. “I’m sorry.”

He slowly stood from his chair, sitting at the end of the bed now. I could finally see his face, so scared and tired and hurt. It tore me apart knowing I’d done this to him.

“Why?” He asked, confused. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

I bit the inside of my lip, “It took the pain away...made me numb.”

“How long?”

I hesitated, knowing the answer was something he’d rather not indulge in. “About a year.”

I stared at my entwined hands, watching from my peripheral as his shoulders slumped forward, a hand running down his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice laced with hurt.

“I didn’t want you to have to add me to the list of things to worry about,” I blurted, the words pouring out. “You and Dean- you have so much on your plates right now, and...and I figured that it would be too much for you to handle. I didn’t want you to have to carry around that kind of burden-”

“Hey,” Sam said quickly, the tips of his fingers tipping my head so my eyes would meet his, “that’s not the case at all, alright? You- you are so important to me, Y/N. You’re my girl, and if you’re going through something I want to be there to help you get through it, no matter how big or how small.”

I shook my head, holding his large hands that always felt as if they could mend me with one touch. However, this time was different. I felt far from put back together again. “I don’t want you to have to worry about me, Sam. I should be able to handle my problems like an adult-”

“Don’t start that,” Sam said sternly, shaking his head. He sat momentarily, just looking into my eyes before speaking again, “you know when I first fell in love with you, I knew what it came along with. Loving you meant being there through it all. The highs, the lows, the highs so high it felt like the world couldn’t contain them and lows so low it felt like we were far under rock bottom. But that’s what I signed up for, Y/N. It’s what I want. I want to be here for you, I want you to get better. You will get better.”

He ran a loving hand over my hair as he pulled me in for a kiss, melting into each other. I slowly pulled away, letting the kiss linger for as long as I could. I blinked my eyes open to his, unsure of how lucky I’d gotten.

“Thank you.”

The only words I could manage, the only words I could mutter between my lips. But Sam understood. For now, it was enough.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Forever Tag List

Want to be tagged every time I post a Sam fic? Let me know by sending me an ask!

127 notes · View notes

cultofpersonalitys-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Background Of Everything - Week Three/Bobby Fischer

Welcome to the third edition of "Background Of Everything". This week's edition is going to be about one of the greatest minds to ever exist on earth, arguably the greatest chess player of all time, Bobby Fischer.

Bobby Fischer was born in Chicago, Illinois on March 9, 1943. Bobby was introduced to chess as a 6 year old, when he learned how to play using instructions from a set bought at a candy store. Due to his family's lack of interest in the subject, Bobby had to play his very first games against himself. In 1950, Fischer found an encyclopedia of old chess games and started studying it intensely. Fischer's mother, Regina Wender Fischer was deeply concerned about her career therefore the family kept moving from apartment to apartment, in order for Regina to continue her studies, Robbed of her medical degree in Russia because of the war, she was now determined to acquire a nursing diploma. The family settled in Brooklyn, which is when Fischer started taking chess more seriously than ever, and his mother started to fear because little Bobby was spending way too much time alone.

As an 11 year old, Bobby started attending the local chess club. The very same year Fischer's career as a chess player started skyrocketing, as in 1956, a local chess club decided to take him to a tour in Cuba, where he gave a 12 board simultaneous exhibition, winning 10 games and drawing 2.

1956 proved to be the best year in young Bobby's life, as just a few months after a Cuban tour, he won his first ever US Junior Chess Champion at age 13, becoming the youngest player to do so.

Fischer's talent led to him being invited by the USCF to participate in the US Championship in 1957-58, which he won, becoming the youngest US Champion in history at age of 15.

Eventually, Fischer's passion for chess got to the point where he was no longer concerned about schoolwork. By the time he reached fourth grade, he had already changed 6 schools.

When Fischer was 16 years old, Regina moved out of their apartment in order to pursue her career, and even today it is believed that Bobby resented his mother for not being around long enough for him.

1961 is when the lifelong rivalry between Fischer and the Soviet star Boris Spassky started, as they tied for the first place at the tournament in Argentina.

Fischer and Spassky would meet again in 1972 in the World Chess Championship, which lead to the infamous match of the century. The match took place in Iceland from July to September, 1972. Fischer lost the first two matches by forfeit due to conditions that were not appealing to him. Spassky however, not wanting to win this way, agreed on Fischer's demands and the match was moved to the backroom, away from cameras which distracted Fischer. Fischer won seven of the next 19 games, losing one and drawing 11, to win the World Chess Championship and become the 11th World Chess Champion.

The World Chess Championship in 1972 would be the downfall of his career however, after The Match Of The Century, Fischer did not perform in a competitive game for nearly 20 years, isolating himself from the public picture due to his lack of sympathy for fame and people in general.

I hope you enjoyed this week’s “Background Of Everything”.

#bobby fischer #chess #history #Background Of Everything

1 note · View note

alwaysanotherooc · 7 years ago

Text

Shock To The System

Rating: M, just in case Warnings: Rating is for language and sexual tension. (It’s probably not necessary but I like being cautious.) Fandoms: The Wayhaven Chronicles Characters: Will Kingston, Adam du Mortain, Nate Sewell, Felix Hauville, Mason, Bobby Marks Pairings: Will Kingston/Adam du Mortain, exes Will Kingston/Bobby Marks Description: Adam is determined not to get close to Agent Kingston’s son. He’s determined to get through this assignment without knowing one thing about him. Nate and Felix think Adam is a dumbass. Author’s Note: So this is my first WC fic, and tbh I don’t have MUCH of a hold on the characters yet, but I’m doing my best, and I think it turned out pretty good. EDIT: 05/14/2018 to fix some mis-named instances and wrong pronouns.

Adam POV

I stabbed a finger in Felix’s direction, practically hissing, “Stop saying that, we won’t be telling the Detective, nobody is telling the Detective anything!”

I was sick of having this same exact argument every time the four of us were alone. This time the argument was happening in my motel room, a somewhat dusty but all too cheerfully decorated thing in the only motel in all of Wayhaven.

The very idea of telling Will - the Detective, anything about the paranormal not only went against direct orders but was an argument that had been settled against no less than five times since Agent Kingston had assigned us as a protective detail for her son.

A discreet protective detail, as I kept having to remind the other agents, especially Felix, who could never resist a good vampire pun.

“Oh, of course,” Felix rolled his eyes, lips twisting in a mocking smile from where he was perched on the motel armchair, “Because keeping things from humans has always worked out so well, historically speaking.”

Mason, amusing himself in the corner of the room, didn’t look up while saying around the cigarette between his lips, “But that’s what he’s hoping for. See, Adam wants to get the human killed, and then all of us killed as well when we report in to Agent Kingston.”

I felt my blood pressure skyrocket. “I thought you were on my side, to not tell him!”

Mason glanced up, shrugging noncommittally.

Sitting precariously at the small, rickety breakfast table shoved into one corner of the room, Nate grinned at me, eyes twinkling. “Now that’s three votes against one. And tonight, while we’re on patrol, will be the perfect opportunity!”

“I’m not voting for anything,” Mason drawled, “And I’m certainly not voting for telling the human anything.”

Nate deflated a little. “Well, that’s still two votes for.”

Felix made a small sound.

Nate twisted in his seat, gasping dramatically. “Traitor!”

Felix laughed, “Love you too, Nate.”

I rubbed my eyes with my hands. “Nate-”

“No, no, I get it,” Nate sighed, settling his long, gangly body back into his chair. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know,” I said softly.

“And I am gonna continue to fight you on it,” Nate said matter-of-factly.

“I know,” I repeated, feeling my shoulders tense up again at the thought.

“And I am gonna lord it over you when Will finds out on his own that we’re vampires,” Nate’s mouth twitched, his eyes glimmering devilishly.

“I know,” I nearly growled through grit teeth.

I could practically hear the delight Nate, Felix, and Mason were taking in the direction the conversation had turned.

Especially when Nate continued, “Because even Mason’s admitted Will’s pretty damn smart and he has a habit of running into trouble headfirst, and you yourself have even commented that humans have a habit of finding out things that are none of their business, and Will is, after all, a Detective-”

“I know, I know, I know, for the love of - I KNOW!” I snapped at him, my shoulders up around my ears with tension.

Mason chuckled, always delighted at my irritation.

I knew all of that, I did, and though I wasn’t about to tell any of the vampiric vultures in the room, I definitely knew it was only a matter of time before somebody slipped up or Murphy revealed all of himself or Will walked right out - the Detective walked right out and stumbled into a vampire feeding ground by sheer dumb luck.

But that didn’t mean I was going to go against regulations and orders and tell him anything.

A knock on the motel room door interrupted my fuming, and I stalked over to wrench the door open, denting the knob a little in the process. “What.”

A young boy, probably still in high school, dressed in an intensely unfashionable fast food uniform stared up at me in fear, holding out a large pizza box. “Uh, gee, I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but…”

Awkwardly, the young boy gestured with the pizza box. “Uh, your pepperoni and extra cheese.”

I turned to glare at the suddenly silent members of the room. “Which one of you ordered pizza?”

Felix hopped up, skipping over to the door, “That’d be me, fearless leader,” and he proceeded to grab the pizza and turn away from the door, asking disinterestedly over his shoulder, “Would you mind tipping him, Adam, I’m starved.”

I rolled my eyes, trying desperately not to snarl at him or the innocent pizza boy still waiting anxiously in the doorway. I reached into my back pocket.

And found nothing in my wallet’s usual place.

But of course.

I turned on Felix and Nate, both of whom were completely absorbed in the pizza. And therefore, completely ignoring me, but I could tell by the set of their shoulders that they were both aware of my gaze.

Felix had somehow gotten into the habit of honing his pickpocketing skills on me, and Nate could sometimes be convinced to join in if Felix sweet talked him enough. This was the third time this month one of the two of them had lifted something from me, and I was getting incredibly sick of it.

Very calmly, I bit out, “My wallet seems to be missing.”

I waited, angrily, aware that the pizza boy standing outside the doorway was starting to shrink inwards on himself in fear as I spat, “You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, now would you?”

I tried to remind myself that I did love them both, really, but goddamn they didn’t make it easy.

Finally, they both looked up.

Nate smiled blandly, Felix blinked all too innocently at me and said, “Oh no, did you leave your wallet at the police station again?”

“You know,” Nate chimed in, “I think that’s where it is. I distinctly remember it being on Detective Kingston’s desk right before we all left.”

The kid in the doorway stopped me from invoking divine vengeance by stuttering out, “Oh, no, sirs, you don’t have to worry about it. You gave me a tip when you ordered online.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, and he beamed brightly, “Oh, that’s right! Well, thank you, sonny, have a nice evening!”

The kid stood there for a second, staring somewhat awestruck at Felix until he blinked and flushed bright crimson from his forehead to his neck and practically bolted back towards his car.

I let the door fall shut with a loud thunk.

Felix and Nate, who had turned back away from me, did not look up from their pizza.

Mason had gone back to playing with his lighter, though his eyes darted back and forth between myself and the two busybodies sitting in the room.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Felix-”

“It’s such a shame,” Felix said loudly, covering my words with his own, “that my memory and Adam’s isn’t as good as Nate’s.”

Mason snorted from the corner but didn’t comment.

Nate nodded sagely. “That’s very kind of you, Farah.”

Then Nate turned towards me, smiling cheerfully. “Will you be going back to the police station to collect your wallet before we head out to patrol?”

I thought about answering him.

I also thought, very briefly, about throwing him into a wall.

Or through one, maybe.

It wasn’t like it’d hurt him.

Permanently.

Then I turned on my heel and stalked out the door, ignoring the victorious giggling happening behind me.

The one good thing about having to go back to the station at six o’clock at night was that surely Will - Detective Kingston would be home by now, as would almost everyone else who worked at the minuscule station. There was no chance I would run into anyone while getting my wallet.

—-A Short While Later—-

Just as I’d hoped, Douglas was nowhere to be found at the front desk when I walked back into the precinct. As I made my way towards the Detective’s office, I thought about avoiding everyone until eight and doing another search of the warehouse. I knew it was unlikely that we had missed anything, but I’d rather waste time searching the warehouse again than sit around with the unit and listen to Nate and Felix tease me while Mason smoked.

As I neared the closed office door, I finally registered the voices coming through from the office.

The Detective’s voice, low and uncharacteristically angry, as he hissed, “Look, you made your point with the article, all I’m asking is for you to just cool it.”

I paused outside the door, breathing in deep without quite meaning to, and I felt my whole body tense at the acidic mix of anger, panic, and disgust weaving through Will’s blood.

The other person in the room laughed tightly, the mocking sound of their voice raising my guard as they purred, “What would you suggest, keeping secrets from the public?”

“I would suggest,” Will snapped, “that you don’t cause undue panic in a small town, I don’t want to have to deal with the riot that will most definitely happen if you keep publishing stories like this!”

There was the sound of heavy paper hitting a surface and I remembered the hometown paper that Nate had carefully flung at my face earlier that morning, the headline blaring ‘Police Baffled By Murders! Can They Protect Us If They Don’t Know What’s Happening?’.

If I had to guess, I’d say that the other person in the room was the author of said article, what was their name…

The other voice scoffed. “Only because you can’t seem to do your job, Detective.”

“What are you even here for, Bobby.” Will’s voice was tight with anger.

Bobby Marks, that was the author’s name.

Bobby’s voice was much deeper than before when he replied, “I’m here for you, angel.”

There was a pause, the sound of shuffling feet and a soft thud, followed by a sharp inhaling gasp.

Will’s scent deepened with confusion and fear, his heart beating much faster.

Before I knew it, I had yanked open the door, sudden righteous fury pushing me forward.

Will and Bobby’s head’s both snapped towards me in shock. Will’s back was pressed up flush against the wall, hunched inwards on himself and decidedly away from Bobby, who was standing completely within Will’s space, leaning in so close Bobby’s face was within three inches of Will’s, Bobby’s hands planted on the wall on either side of Will’s waist.

I felt my face draw together into a positively predatorial expression. “Bobby Marks. Correct?”

Bobby, eyes wide and pulse racing, terror searing through his scent, nodded dumbly.

I looked him up and down, slowly, and when I met his eyes I said, my voice frigid with distaste, “Detective Kingston and I have police business to discuss. You need to leave the premises immediately.”

Bobby pushed away from the wall, stepping back, and I watched as relief flooded Will’s expression, his soft brown eyes sweeping up to meet mine.

I looked away, watching Bobby adjust his clothes before giving me a smarmy smile. “And who are you, to kick out a member of the press?”

I let my expression harden like stone, taking immense pleasure in the sudden paling of Bobby’s face. Very deliberately, I said, “I am Commanding Agent du Mortain, and you need to leave the premises.”

I took a step forward, edging myself to stand between Bobby and Will.

Bobby’s eyes darted over me, and he swallowed hard.

I glared harder, nearly snarling. “Now.”

Bobby’s eyes narrowed at me, and he argued, “You can’t order me to do anything, Agent.”

My patience, which had already been worn thin, finally broke.

“You have given me no choice but to escort you out of the building.” I snapped.

Will snorted softly in amusement behind me.

Bobby blinked. “Wait, what?”

I reached out, clasping Bobby’s shoulder a little tighter than I normally would for a human and I shoved him forward, ignoring his sharp protests.

I lead him all the way back outside like that, Will trailing behind us, Bobby spitting crass insults at the both of us that fell on my completely uncaring ears.

After pushing Bobby out of the station’s front doors, I shoved him, just a little, watching him stumble towards the parking lot.

And then, because I couldn’t help myself, I called after him, “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Bobby turned to give me a truly poisonous look before practically throwing himself into his car.

I watched him drive away, tires protesting slightly, not thinking about why in the hell I had just done that.

Suddenly, Will started laughing.

I turned to face him, and all my breath completely left my lungs.

The setting sun was shining on him, turning deep tawny skin burnished gold, his plush mouth stretched wide in bright amusement as he laughed, and then he looked up, those velvet soft eyes punching right through me.

I realized then that his eyes weren’t brown, not really. They were a deep, deep honey hazel color, streaks of green shot through the irises alongside blue and grey flecks. The way the light hit them made them look like some sort of magical gemstone.

He didn’t seem aware of how he looked to me in the sunset, blissfully laughing, he reached out and captured one of my hands in both of his, his palms warm and callused, his fingers slipping between my own.

Will, still laughing, managed, “Ok, look, you probably shouldn’t have done that because the only reason I never have is that he’d write a story on it, which looking at where we are right now is something we really don’t need, but honestly?”

He beamed up at me, eyes shining. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

Will seemed a lot closer to me than he had just a moment before, though he certainly hadn’t moved. His lashes were long, ink-dark against his cheeks as he blinked, his skin flushing softly as he continued to stare back at me.

I could smell the stirrings of arousal coming off of him, his pulse quickening, and I couldn't make myself look away from him, couldn't even begin to think about moving away from him when he was so warm and soft and sweet in all of my senses.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower, a little rougher. “Thank you, Adam.”

I fought a sudden reaction at the way he said my name.

“For what?” My voice, unbidden, came out just as low as his, and rough like I’d gargled gravel.

The wind blew the front of Will’s glossy black hair, usually worn in a neatly kept undercut, into his eyes, and I was overcome with the desire to reach out with my other hand and push my fingers into that thick fringe.

Will licked his lips, and I couldn’t help but track the movement. “For having my back. Thank you.”

Like a rush of cold water over my body, I remembered what I was supposed to be doing in Wayhaven, that this human was under my protection and was supposed to be kept completely in the dark with all things paranormal, and I jerked away from Will.

I felt the unexpected absence of his body heat like a shock to the system, and I tried to pull my self back together, away from whatever that moment had been, back to being in Commander mode.

Will blinked, confused, like someone waking up from a dream.

I took another step back, finding it both easier and harder to breathe with the distance, though for very different reasons that I wouldn’t allow myself to think about.

I cleared my throat, saying in an all-too-loud voice, “It’s my job to have your back.”

The confusion on Will’s face vanished, and he nodded, reaching up to push his hair back into place.

I did not let myself watch the movement.

Will adjusted his blazer, setting his shoulders and body posture back into the posh professional stance I was used to. “Of course, Agent du Mortain.”

I didn’t think about the small disappointment of hearing him call me ‘Agent’ instead of ‘Adam’.

Before the situation could get any more out of hand, I narrowed my eyes at him and snapped, “Don’t be late tonight, we’ll all be at the Town Square at eight-thirty sharp.”

Will - Detective Kingston nodded seriously. “I will be on time. See you then.”

We stared at each other for a moment longer, and then, nearly at the same time, turned in opposite directions and walked away. Detective Kingston walked back into the police station, and I started walking anywhere but where I was.

I realized, suddenly, that I hadn’t grabbed my wallet.

Cursing softly, I kept walking. I wasn’t about to go back in now. I’d get my wallet tomorrow.

#The Wayhaven Chronicles #Adam du Mortain #Agent A du Mortain #Nate Sewell #Agent N Sewell #Farah Hauville #Agent F Hauville #Specialist Agent Morgan #Specialist Agent M #Detective OC #William Kingston #Adam du Mortain/William Kingston #emmawriteswayhaven

17 notes · View notes

wsmith215 · 5 years ago

Text

Kevin Durant, Kobe Bryant and other NBA players who said they wanted to play at North Carolina

If you’re a UNC basketball fan, you probably don’t know how to feel when you hear that you could have had the chance to see Kevin Durant play for a season in the Dean Smith Center.

Durant is one of many great players to openly say he wanted to play at North Carolina. Last year on the Players’ Tribune’s “Knuckleheads” podcast, Durant told the story of his recruitment with UNC. At the time, he was the No. 2 player in the class of 2006 behind Greg Oden. His roommate at Oak Hill Academy was Ty Lawson, who went on to play point guard for three years with the Tar Heels and was named ACC Player of the Year in 2009, leading the team to a national championship.

“They were recruiting me heavy with (Lawson),” Durant said. “They were expecting us to come together. I’m going on official visits. I went to a game where they beat Duke at the buzzer, and they won a national championship that year, my junior year in high school. So I was like, ‘Man I want to go to Carolina.'”

MORE: How many times have the Tar Heels won the NCAA Tournament?

Of course, Carolina fans know things didn’t pan out that way. Roy Williams hauled in a huge recruiting class that year — the No. 1 class in the nation — that included Brandan Wright (No. 3 player in the nation), Lawson (No. 7), Wayne Ellington (No. 9), Deon Thompson, Alex Stepheson and Will Graves. Add that incoming freshman class to a roster of Tyler Hansbrough, Danny Green, Marcus Ginyard, Reyshawn Terry and Bobby Frasor, and it’s clear to see why Durant was hesitant about becoming a Tar Heel.

“They were stacked though,” Durant said. “They had a nice senior class. They went to the Elite Eight that year. Tyler Hansbrough was there, Danny Green, all those dudes, so I would’ve gotten kind of lost — not lost, but I would have been playing 25 minutes instead of 40 minutes like I should have been playing.”

Had Durant chosen UNC, he almost certainly would have found his way into the starting lineup (although Marvin Williams, the No. 2 pick in the 2005 NBA Draft, was the sixth man on the 2005 national championship team). But he probably wouldn’t have usurped Hansbrough’s role as the focal point of the offense, and may have had to play out of position as a power forward. There’s no telling how all of that would have affected Durant’s draft stock, but the two-time NBA champion, one-time MVP-winner is probably happy he chose Texas. Of course, things worked out for North Carolina, too; the Tar Heels went to the Elite Eight in 2007, the Final Four in 2008 and won the national championship in 2009.

No, North Carolina fans probably aren’t too hurt about missing out on Durant, but what about some of the other NBA stars who said they wanted to play for the prestigious program? Here’s a look at four other NBA players who could have been Tar Heels.

Kobe Bryant

Kobe Bryant may have developed a close relationship with Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski during their time together at the Olympics, but his desire to be like Mike (Jordan) nearly drove him to play college basketball at UNC. In an interview with Jimmy Kimmel in 2013, Bryant said he would have chosen the Tar Heels over the Blue Devils.

“If I had to make a decision, I probably would have wound up going to Carolina,” Bryant said. “Just because of the competition. The year before I graduated, Vince Carter went to Carolina, and the year before he was the best guard in the country, so I’m looking at him and saying, ‘I want to play against him every single day,’ because I want to get better and I want to measure myself against these guys.”

Of course, Bryant instead skipped college basketball and went straight to the NBA, which worked out pretty well for him. But if he hadn’t been allowed to go straight to the draft and had chosen to play at North Carolina, he would’ve joined a pretty solid 1996-97 roster that included Carter, future National Player of the Year-winner Antawn Jamison, a solid shooter in Shammond Williams, senior big man Serge Zwikker and freshman point guard Ed Cota (who went on to become the school’s all-time leader in assists). On its own, that team was decent, and with most of the squad returning the next season they made it to a Final Four in Bill Guthridge’s first year as head coach. But had Bryant joined the Tar Heels, could they have brought Smith another national title in his swansong season?

Dwight Howard

Think back to that 2005 national championship team at UNC. They were pretty well-set inside with Sean May (17.5 points, 10.5 rebounds per game) and Marvin Williams (11.3 points, 6.3 rebounds). Now imagine throwing in Dwight Howard to the mix.

While Howard has previously said that he received strong interest from Duke and Georgia Tech, he’s made it known that he ultimately would have chosen North Carolina and been a part of Roy Williams’ first recruiting class. What a statement that would have been.

The Tar Heels didn’t need Howard that season, but it’s still fun to imagine just how good they might have been with Howard in the starting lineup over Jackie Manuel (5.5 points, 2.8 rebounds).

J.R. Smith

This story might be a little more well-known by UNC fans of a certain age. Smith had already commited to play at North Carolina when Matt Doherty was head coach. When Roy Williams took over, he initially told Smith that he couldn’t offer him a scholarship until he saw him play and got to know him more. Eventually, Williams did get to spend time with Smith and liked what he saw: an extremely athletic wing who was a streaky shooter but had the potential to be an explosive scorer. He could have plugged right into the rotation of the 2005 team alongside Howard.

Unfortunately for Williams, Smith’s draft stock skyrocketed toward the end of his senior season as his shot fell more consistently. Smith lit up the spring all-star circuits, earning co-MVP honors with Howard in the McDonald’s All-American Game. Suddenly, he was projected as a mid-to-late first round pick, and ultimately he chose to enter the 2004 NBA Draft, where he was selected by the New Orleans Hornets with the 18th pick.

Who knows what a year of running sprints for Williams might have done for Smith and his career. The extra year may have helped him mature both on and off the court, and we might be talking about a very different player.

Damian Lillard

There isn’t much to go with this one, other than a tweet during a Q&A session in which Lillard said he would have chosen North Carolina if he could have gone to any college.

There isn’t any indication that UNC recruited Lillard. He was in the class of 2008. UNC brought in four freshmen that year: Tyler Zeller, Ed Davis, Larry Drew and Justin Watts. Drew was also a point guard from the state of California. 24/7 had him as the No. 7 point guard in the nation and No. 8 player in the state, while Lillard was rated as the No. 48 point guard in the nation and No. 20 player in the state. UNC fans might have liked to have Lillard over Drew, who quit midway through the 2010-2011 season after losing the starting job to Kendall Marshall and transferred out of the program.

Source link

The post Kevin Durant, Kobe Bryant and other NBA players who said they wanted to play at North Carolina appeared first on The Bleak Report.

from WordPress https://bleakreport.com/kevin-durant-kobe-bryant-and-other-nba-players-who-said-they-wanted-to-play-at-north-carolina/

#Sports Report

0 notes

roxanneiisms · 7 years ago

Text

Title → Behind Closed Doors Character(s) → Max Goof & Roxanne French (ft. Rufus & Marlene French) Setting → Friday Evening, Late May 1996 General Background → Preparations for Prom at Spoonerville High was suppose to be peaceful until Spoonerville High’s auburn bombshell is exposed for by demons at home

Her delicate finger swirled one last time through the strand by her ear, giving it that last bounce of volume she needed before giving herself one last breeze of hairspray in order to get the job done. It was rare when she could look at herself with a genuine sense of satisfaction as bright brown eyes bounced off the reflection of the lit up vanity mirror. Daddy thought it would be nice to rent for the ambience of the occasion. “Nothing but the best for his Princess,” he says. Ember waves of her hair was actually tamed for the evening in a nice slick back low bun with two strands of loose wave curls in the front to frame her face. Her hair was darkened by the amount of mousse needed to hold down her tresses but once dried it would illuminate her bright orange greatness once again. Roxanne wasn’t used to the control she had over her hair. Most of the time it was just an ocean of crazy, yet she enjoyed it to some extent. It made her see herself in a different light. A new light, a mature light.

Roxanne never thought she’d make it to senior year, nevertheless the end of her senior year. Yet here she was…getting ready for prom. And what a year it was. Sure she had her fun with senior year activities, but it was also bombarded with AP English and multiple Student Council campaigns that she reluctantly signed up for. But it was for her Stacey, so she would go above and beyond for her quirky best friend who wanted her last year as President to go out with a bang. Not to mention, she was nearing one year with the love of her life.

Roxanne wouldn’t have made it from August to May if it weren’t for the Goof Boy himself shaking her back into reality. She never recognized she had a “do everything” mentality until one day Max sat her down and ripped up her calendar to show all the chaos she had to do that whole week. She would have had three meltdowns in a row if he didn’t convince her to slow down half way through. With that, Max made her last school year as glorious as it could be and beyond, every second making her fall in love with him more and more. Being able to walk into school as a couple after the summer of a lifetime made her confidence skyrocket to a brand new dimension. Finally with the guy who made it easy to be herself around and refused to let her fall into that false sense of phony she found herself going through school with in the past without realizing it. Not to mention days with PJ and Bobby always kept her laughing, two guys Roxanne never thought she’d hang out with. But there was she was, having the time of her life. That year Roxanne learned how to genuinely smile and laugh again. Something she lost over the first couple years of high school. Together they all rushed for the finish line that was high school!

…However then May came and everything ended up in a halt. There was nothing else to do but make it to finals and then – graduate. She was done. Roxanne’s face melted to a disgruntled frown at the thought of not being a high schooler anymore. As much as she wished it could be, not everything was perfect. Sometime in the end of March, college acceptance letters came out. One said Spoonerville State, the other Brookmere University. Two colleges a total of three hours away from each other. Roxanne completely forgot about the idea of distance seeing that she was with Max every day of her life that year. It seemed impossible for them to be separated. However, Roxanne dreamed of Brookmere’s event planning program her entire life while Max wanted to be the first freshmen team to win the X-Games at State. Two completely different dreams that couldn’t be accomplished unless they went their separate ways.

Roxanne tried her best not to think about it these past couple months, but the thought of graduation made the thought creep up even more now. Her love ran deep and when she can’t be there to show her waves of affection, she felt uneasy. It was a conversation she and Max needed to have sometime soon, but she feared that the resolution would result in a breakup. It was her biggest fear yet, but she wouldn’t tell him that in case he had the idea…

A sharp knock on her bedroom door snapped the canine out of her sullen state before she turned her head to the wooden frame.

“Yes?” She called out, her response was a soft growl from her father. A small smile crept onto her face as she stood up.

That was her father’s way to telling her to hurry up. She was sitting in her underwear with her makeup and hair done for twenty extra minutes while she was deep in thought. Roxanne had to pull herself together, IT WAS PROM NIGHT! It was so quick for her to forget that detail. Senior prom was something she had dreamt of as soon as she walked through the doors of Spoonerville High. But, of course, Stacey had to take that extra step to make her thought a reality with the added on experience of Roxanne somehow getting nominated for Prom Queen.

She knew it was all Stacey, even though her friend tried to assure her that it was all Spoonerville High’s power and Roxanne’s already known popularity around the school. Roxanne didn’t really care about the title and status, seeing that no one really cared after graduation was over. Not to mention, Max wasn’t even nominated for King so she really couldn’t care less anymore. Yet, Stacey decided to take her “campaign” into her own hands to encourage the student body to vote for her. But Roxanne was sure it was just so that Lisa wouldn’t get the win.

Roxanne chuckled to herself as she walked over to her dress. Her dress would give her a transformation of elegance and simplicity. An silk emerald train with a upper thigh slit paired with a laced off the shoulder top. Green really was her color no matter what shade it was. Yet the moment she put this dress on, she felt like a woman. Daddy wasn’t a huge fan; he said she looked too seductive. Not to mention the dress was well over $1000, close to $1500. So when it showed up in her room three days later, she couldn’t help but crumple into tears of joy. How she got her hands on this masterpiece, Roxanne didn’t know. She knew her family couldn’t afford it at all, yet her father went above and beyond to make sure she got what she desired. Something she’ll be forever grateful for her father for.

She took the dress off the hanger and proceeded to slip into the silky number. The cool interior of the material tickled at her legs. Her left knee poked out from her slit with ease as she pulled up the top part of her dress over her breasts. The lace and silk textures contrasted against the parts of her body. Her arms tried to reach behind and fix the zipper but she couldn’t reach. And she didn’t want to ruin it otherwise she would have had a meltdown for ten days straight. “Daddy?” She called, “I need an adult!”

The creaking of the stairway could be heard even from the back of the upper floor. The rumbling of his footsteps sent warm vibrations of comfort through her. It would never get old knowing her father’s steps coming towards her. There were always met with good intentions. The bedroom door creaked open and Roxanne looked to the side to see her father met with a stare of shock on his face. Roxanne was worried for a moment before she pointed to the back of her dress, “I need help.” Her father’s face softened, showing a rare smile before he waddled over zip up the dress. Once tightly fastened, Roxanne felt like an official Barbie Doll. She stepped forward and did a small twirl for her dad,

“Soooo…how do I look?”

The bulldog let out an assuring sigh, giving Roxanne another smile this one bigger than the other, “Outstanding.” His gruff tone made the room shake as Roxanne gave him a bright grin. Her father was a man of silence and allowed his body language and growls communicate for him. So for him to actually give her a solid answer made Roxanne’s heart flutter and tackle – or fail to – her father into a tight hug. No matter what, the two of them always made it through together. Even when her mother was present, Rufus and Roxanne managed to stick it out and here they were. Prom night. Together. Roxanne let out a small breath of relief, all of the stress she had going into the evening suddenly washed away in her father’s arms. Even though she was the woman of the house, she was still an only daughter in a single parent home. Her father tries as hard as he can to provide for her and raise her correctly and Roxanne was proud to show him that she was alive and well. He had did his job magnificently.

Their moment was interrupted by a knock on the door, which made Roxanne break from the hold with a loud gasp. Fuck, Max was here. “Ohhhhhhh my God, he’s here! He’s early! Why does he have to be early today of all days?!” A whirlwind of emerald and auburn rushed around the small bedroom, circling the grumpy bulldog. Roxanne ran back and forth trying to find her jewelry, clutch, and back to her shoes, not grabbing any of them due to the amount of panic coursing through her. The older canine had enough, slowly trudging over, picking Roxanne up from her shoulders, which made the girl pause. He walked her over to the end of her bed and plopped her down, her body bouncing from the creaky mattress. Rufus pointed towards her feet, “Shoes.” He said in a curt rumble.

Roxanne nodded, taking a deep breath and bent down to grab her shoes. “Daddy, please don’t try to scare him tonight. It’s special.” She pleaded with a sweet pout. Rufus only snorted and walked out of the room, having no intention on listening to what Roxanne had to say. Her father would never let up on Max for taking the heart and attention of his only daughter, which was exhausting. But that also let Roxanne know that Max was accepted, and that’s all that mattered. Before she could put on her shoes, Roxanne decided to grab her opal earrings and her silver collar. As she put the accessories on, Roxanne heard a feminine voice coming from outside the open door of her bedroom.

“Now where is she? I want to see my little girl off to her big night.” “You’re not suppose to be here…” “And why not? I have as much a right to see Roxanne as you do.” “She gon’ be upset…” “She’ll be fine for just a few moments. Roxanne, sweetie, come down here! Mama wants to see you!”

Roxanne rushed barefoot to the balcony of the stairs, to pierce down as the nightmare flashed before her eyes. Marlene Susanna Doan-French aka the worst thing that ever happened to Roxanne. That bob of auburn hair that mirrored her own locks, button nose twisted in a permanent pretentious expression, and that nasty smile that was disguised with good intentions but really meant there was going to be trouble. Roxanne’s growl roared under her throat as her hands tried to squeeze the life out of the lifeless barricade. Frustrated, Roxanne marched her way to the stairs. Her face molded into a face of scorn and resentment as she stared eye to eye with her mother. A literal spitting image of herself and it made her sick to her stomach.

However, she was going to play nice just this once. The faster she could play along and get her out, the faster she can get herself together so that she and Max could have the night of their lives with their friends. Her cordovan irises were darkened to an sleek ebony color as she eyed her mother. “What are you doing here?” Roxanne’s voice straight and to the point.

Marlene merely scuffed at the attitude, “Come on, Roxanne, there’s no need to have the claws out I come in peace. I just wanted to see my little girl off to prom,” She boldly took a step closer to Roxanne, which made the younger girl step back, flinching away from her. “You can quit with the dramatics.”

“It’s not dramatics, I specifically told you not to come here. It was suppose to be me and Daddy tonight.” Roxanne looked over to her father who had stood ground in the background, leaving room for Marlene and Roxanne to do whatever they were going to do unless he had to step in. Her vision reverted back to Marlene, “So I ask again, what are you doing here?”

“Well since I didn’t receive a ticket to your graduation, Roxanne, I thought it would be fair to come see you off to prom. I’m really trying to be a good mother but I can’t do it if you aren’t cooperating. Why don’t you try to be the bigger person for once?”

Roxanne laughed in her face at that one. The plastic mask she had on her face almost seemed convincing. And her speech? Hilarious! Being the bigger person? She’s 17! If her mother wanted her to be the bigger person, she would have proper intentions on being here with her. But Roxanne knew why she was here. It was to take away her spotlight, which was why she always came around. The thought of her father still flaunting over her and not her mother irked her soul no matter how much damage she did to the family. The moment Roxanne told her she wanted it to be her father and herself, Marlene was already gearing up to ruin it. She didn’t even care! That woman didn’t want to be a good mother; she couldn’t even spell the damn word.

“Right…right, there’s a reason why I didn’t give you a ticket to graduation. It’s because I knew you would try to pull something like this! I was going to wait until after tonight to give it to you but since you want to completely ignore what I ask you to do, you don’t get to see me graduate! I mean, it’s not like you really care about my diploma anyways. All you care about is trying to show everyone that our “family” is doing perfect in the public eye rather than showing everyone that you two aren’t together because YOU fucked up! Your reputation is on the line and you know it, that’s why you’re trying to be seen at all of my stuff! It’s not like you gave a shit back then, did you?!”

Roxanne knew she was throwing a temper tantrum but she couldn’t care less. All of her frustration needed to come out right then and there so she could attempt to enjoy herself. She just wanted her to go away but she wouldn’t L E A V E ! Roxanne was sure that after her blow up her mother would just storm off.

Her mother huffed in frustration, her plastic smile finally falling to show the expression that Roxanne knew. Distaste, jealousy, and resentful, everything that made up her mother was finally shown to the light. “I thought I would come and see you off to prom peacefully. You don’t want me at your graduation? Fine. I know what you told me but what you need to understand, young lady, that I am the mother and you are the child. And it’s about time you start acting like one instead of the entitled spoiled brat you’ve always been.”

That was the trigger pulled in record time. Roxanne stared emptily at the older woman, the sigh of exhaustion coming from behind her as her father geared up for another explosion.

Roxanne snorted, bouncing her eyebrows at Marlene and folded her arms across her chest with a facetious smirk. “I’m sorry for not acting like a child, mother. But somebody had to be the bigger woman after you decided to cheat and walk out on us! Safe to say I had to grow up just a little early because of your mistakes. Try not to be a whore next time and I will act like the child you want me to be.” A sharp gasp sucked in from the older woman, the impulse action sparked to lift her hand to Roxanne. Roxanne winced prematurely, ready for the strike to hit her face before a loud cascade shook the house.

“THAT’S ENOUGH.”

Roxanne opened her eyes to see her father standing in between herself and her mother, Marlene’s wrist held in his right hand to block her from hitting Roxanne. Black tears coursed down her face, the adrenaline causing her body to quake as she realized everything she just said and what would have happened if her father wasn’t in the room. Roxanne turned her head to the left to see a lone figure in the open doorway. Bright azure eyes staring on at the scene broadcasted in front of him.

Clad in a freshly rented tuxedo, jacket opened and relaxed, and accessorized with a silk emerald handkerchief. Never had the boy felt so crisp. The white and green corsage grip felt limp in his hand as he looked on his shock at his girlfriend’s family. Roxanne’s heart dropped seeing Max staring right at her. What all did he see? How much did he hear? What did he think of her now? He was probably disgusted, believed she was vile and impotent. The tears grew as her face flushed in embarrassment before storming off towards the back of the house to her back door, ready to run away from the world.

“Roxanne!”

She heard Max call out behind her but she only ran faster, one hand holding her clutch while the other held her dress up so she wouldn’t trip over herself. Through the back gate, she ran across the street, deep into the back forest of Spoonerville National Park. She ran to her safe place, her place where she could just let out all of her emotion so no one would see. It was adopted by her at she was 12 years old when her family mess started. Roxanne would spend the night in this area just to run away from her home life. It was one of the reasons why her father kept a tight leash on her now until she promised him that she would return home.

Roxanne was sure that she would have seen the last of this place. She didn’t have a reason to escape to here anymore until this point. Passing through the trees, she made it to the abandoned bandstand surrounded by vines with Star Jasmine fully bloomed from them. The pastel colors of the sun hiding to the horizon bounced off her hair as she ran up the stairs of the structure, immediately collapsing into a mush of emotions. Roxanne hadn’t let herself get this emotional in a long time. The ruined mascara turned into black pools around her eyes. The sobs of her embarrassment and frustration echoed off the structure and out into the abandoned woods, her cries expected to drown out before they reached the public eye. But they did reach someone.

“Roxanne?” A sweet voice rang from behind her, but the girl merely sunk further into the floor. Ashamed to show her face to her love after he witnessed her at her literal lowest. It made her realize that she had snapped when she shouldn’t and made a fool out of herself when she made so much progress with her anger and lethal tongue. “Please don’t hide from me…”

Creaks rang from the old construction as the Goof cautiously made his way closer to Roxanne. Max didn’t know what to do. Seeing Roxanne so broken was foreign knowing that she was the one who usually put the puzzle pieces back together. The scenes that played out made Max realize that he didn’t know Roxanne as well as he thought he did. There was so much about her that needed to learn and didn’t realize he hadn’t shared with her. Of course he knew that her parents were broken up, but that was it. Roxanne never opened up about her family outside of her father who Max had to know because he was constantly in the man’s house. But never mention of her mother, who Max assumed was the woman that he had never seen before in the doorway. However, the escalation of that conflict was the least of his worries as the aftermath left his girl leaving a trail of tears and currently sitting in shambles in the middle of nowhere ten minutes before their prom night.

“You weren’t suppose to see that…” A ghostly whisper whistled through sniffles. The auburn haired beauty swung her legs around to hug her knees to her chest and bury her face. Max’s eyes softened as he took one more step to get closer to her, pausing when her voice interrupted again. “No – just…go, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Roxanne. I need to know that you’re oka— ”

“I’m NOT okay, Max!” It was the first time Roxanne ever snapped at Max, which startled both of them. Her eyes widened after realizing her voice raising again before she swallowed the lump in her throat. Max was hit with a wave of hurt at the sudden outburst of the girl, but he understood how tense she was. He watched as her head slowly turned around, dark eyes peaking over her shoulder as she stared at him in a need for help. “I…” She bit at her lip as more tears fell down her cheeks. Max wasn’t used to seeing Roxanne so – broken. She was the rock in their relationship but now she needed him more than anything. His chest jumped as he rushed over to her as her guard fell, taking the cue to take his seat beside her but knew not to touch her until she was ready.

Roxanne couldn’t say no to Max forever. After the events that took place, all she wanted was his affection. She kept a distance between them as he slowly took a seat next to her. She still hid her face from him. Her night was officially ruined which meant that he would be to and it was all her fault. Everything that ever went wrong in her life was all thanks to H E R. And she was sick of being the pawn in her game. It was like it was “her” life goal to ruin everything about her life. And now Max was drug into her family bullshit, which made Roxanne feel 10,000 times worse than she had before. Roxanne wasn’t ready to reveal to Max all of the shit her family went through. It was bound to ruin the perfect image he had of her, and her fear was for Max to think less of her because of the things she’s done and said to her mother. They sat in silence for about ten minutes just allowing for themselves to collect their thoughts on what to do next.

“I just hate her so much.” Roxanne finally spoke, her dead eyes now staring ahead. “She just…” Another lump was caught in her throat, which made her pause. She didn’t want to break down again. It was enough tears over that vile woman, especially now that she had some explaining to do.

“You don’t have to explain anything, Roxanne…” Max tried to stop her; he could just see how hard it was for her to talk. But the girl shook her head knowing that she had to say something. Throwing her clutch in her lap to the side, Roxanne relaxed her body. Reaching back, she completely destroyed the masterpiece she had for her hair as she released the bun. Her long locks exploding into the wavy mess as her hair fell into her face.

“No, you deserve answers to at least something. Everything was out of line and I didn’t expect it to happen in front of you. I’m more embarrassed than anything for you to see me that way.” Roxanne sighed, finally looking up at her lover. Her solemn eyes mirrored his own as he stayed silent to allow her to speak at her own pace. “I haven’t gotten that angry in so long. It was always a problem but I guess I have you to thank for that. I haven’t blown up at that woman for a whole year until she pulled this stunt.”

Roxanne wiped at her eyes, allowing the black product to stain her hands. Her face was completely ruined and her hair was unmolded from perfection. She knew she wasn’t going anywhere anymore. Not like she was in the mood to dance and be under spotlights anyways. “There are so many things that I could tell you, but you’d be so ashamed of me.” She looked straight ahead at the wooden stacks that constructed her safe place. The early summer breeze whistling around them as Roxanne tried to collect her thoughts.

“I don’t know why she’s always hated me. It’s like ever since I was born, it was her life’s duty to ruin me. She’s just a jealous woman and won’t acknowledge the mistakes she’s made. All she does is try to turn them back on me.” Roxanne felt a warm hand along her back, sighing as she realized at the touch of her love. Reaching behind, she grabbed his hand and brought it around to firmly hold it. Max took the next step to lace their fingers together. Roxanne’s heart fluttered feeling their energy mold together once again. She moved her body over to be closer to him, which gave her the strength to keep going. “My mother was never really a mother to me, which really hurts. We don’t have the best relationship; it’s not even a relationship at all. Our family broke up once she realized she wasn’t in the spotlight anymore and that her family didn’t live up to her expectations. My father loved that woman with every fiber of his being just for her to break his heart with her infidelity. After that, I knew I could never trust her ever again. I vowed to never treat anyone I care about like that. Just throwing them to the side once she was done, it was awful.”

Roxanne looked up at Max again, “She knew that I wasn’t willing to allow her to treat me any type of way like she does my father which led to us butting heads.” She resentfully smiled and shook her head again. “I’m not a violent person but when she’s around I feel like I have to literally fight for my life. It got so bad to the point where my dad wouldn’t let me go to her home ever again. That’s why my dad is always so protective of me; he refuses to let anyone hurt me. Yet, he continues to let her back into our lives. And then we fall into the cycle all over again. It makes me feel awful that you even seen her try to raise her hand to me…nobody deserves that even though I was being a smartass.”

Max was stuck in a loop of massaging the back of her hand with his gloved clad one but he fell into a trance as he processed all his love had to say. He would have never realized she was going through all of that from what he seen. Roxanne always had a calm demeanor to herself. Motherly and somewhat strict, but he didn’t think it was because she had to grow up quickly due to the lack of support from her mother. She always had that beautiful smile on her face and that adoring glow in her eyes. No one would suspect she was really going through hell as soon as he left her behind closed doors. How could he be so blind to it? It made him admire the strength she displayed everyday but every strong person has a breaking point. And he would be there for her in her time of recuperation. They took another few minutes to sit in silence as the new wave of information marinated between the two of them.

Max’s blue orbs flicker back to Roxanne, which made the girl glance back at him. Roxanne could usually read what was going through Max’s head. The two of them let their emotions lie on their sleeves but she was completely clueless on what he thought. And that worried her because she was sure he wouldn’t want anything to do with her and her drama anymore. But his question took her by surprise.

“How come you never told me about your mother?” Max asked innocently but was met with a bitter laugh.

“Because I could literally live happily with the thought of her not even being aliv—” Roxanne stopped realizing that her words were inappropriate. Her mouth went faster than her head, making her curse to herself. Wrong move, Roxanne. It was no secret that Max’s mother was not in his life for completely different reasons than Roxanne. While Roxanne had a choice to see her mother, Max didn’t due to unfortunate events. Max’s face dropped as he dropped her hand, looking away from her in initial shock. Roxanne felt her heart tear in two as he inched away from her a bit. Not so much but it was enough to show Roxanne that she had really pushed a strong button. “M-Max, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I just, its complicated.” Both hands roughly raked through her hair again, “Fuck I’m so sorry.” Max’s initial reaction was that he couldn’t believe the selfishness that she displayed. The things he would give to have his mother around, however they came from two different lives.

“You know it doesn’t have to be this way, Roxanne.” His tone made her gulp and quickly switch her head away from him in shame.

Roxanne knew it didn’t have to be this way, but she wouldn’t give that woman the satisfaction of knowing she had officially won. Roxanne was tired of fighting with her mother, which is why she wanted to avoid her at all costs, but Max was right. She’d just never admit it. “I don’t have the strength right now to forgive someone who made my life a living hell before I could make it to 18. I know I should be grateful that I still have a chance to replenish whatever it is with my mother who is still here. But to be honest, I wouldn’t want anyone who treats their daughter like this in my life. And if that makes me an awful brat…”

“It doesn’t make you a brat, Roxanne.” Max interjected, “It makes you genuine to have hesitations like this. But you can’t going on letting your mother control you like this, which leaves you running away from your problems. I get it, parents suck. You already know what I go through with my dad, but you were the one who told me that they’re going to be the ones with us no matter what. And anything could happen with them by our side.” Roxanne slowly looked back to him. His blue eyes inviting and bright shone to her and made her heart flutter again. Stray tears coursed down her cheeks which Max reached forward to wipe them away. As his hand cupped at her face, she instantly raised her hand to cover his. Taking the time to really look at Max, Roxanne sat in admiration as she seen Max in a new light. Accepted for who she was and loved regardless, Roxanne knew she was lucky to have someone like Max in her life. He came at the right time too. If it were anyone else, Roxanne was certain she would have driven herself off the rails by now.

Roxanne licked her lips as her finger tips tickled at the top of his hand on her cheek, “I’m so sorry for what I said, Max. I didn’t mean it I was just…no excuse, it wasn’t right.” Max shrugged but she could see the desolation behind his eyes from her comment. Roxanne knew she had a smart mouth but she never wanted to use it against Max. It made her feel like scum of the earth. “I’m sorry for ruining this night. We’ve already missed half the night.”

“Eh, prom is overrated anyways. Who needs music and dancing with a bunch of our friends? Sitting in a dark forest in the middle of the night is much more worthy of my time.” He said with an amused smirk. Roxanne giggled softly, lightly pushing him. Seeing her smile brightened his evening with ease. All Max wanted was to see that smile with every waking moment. Her tears were something he couldn’t bare to see her have anymore, especially now that he knew the reason why. Max didn’t realize how much of an impact he had over her when she shared that he taught her how to be happy again. But now that he knew the reason why, he vowed to make sure to keep her smiling even more than he already had. It was too beautiful to have it fade away.

“What? You’re telling me sitting in the middle of the dark with a hot mess like myself is thrilling and worthwhile?” Roxanne raised her eyebrow to the Goof boy, her own smirk forming.

“As long as the hot mess is you, I’m down for anything.” Max said with a laugh, a small “hyuck” running through his chuckle. Roxanne giggled back, her cheeks heating up at his laughter. It was the only thing that could help her bounce back.

“I’m offended by that, Goof boy. Even though it was cute, hyuck.” She teased, leaning forward to touch her nose with his. That snip resulted in Max tackling her over, tickling at her sides that led to a wave of laughter coming from the girl. The two of them just reveled in their moment of freedom from all of their problems they ran into that day. All that mattered was their smiles and the fact that they were together again. Max’s nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck, getting tickled by the wave of orange flood that sprawled over the floor. “Okay, okay, I g i v e!” She squealed out which made Max slow down his tickle attack. Their giggles slowed down as they took the time to really look at each other. From the ground, Roxanne stared up at the boy she spent all year falling in love with. No matter what he did, Roxanne was forever grateful for him being in her life. His bright blue eyes were hypnotic; she could stare into the ocean orbs for days and never get tired of seeing them. His sheepish smile was the most adorable thing she had ever seen. While Max looked down at his dream girl in his arms. Literal dreams of this moment for years and here she was basking in his embrace. He would do anything to see that sweet smile and hear that giggle that made the birds sing. As he stared into her eyes, he just wanted to fall into those chocolate pools until the world ended.

Roxanne broke the trance as she closed her eyes with a deep breath. She slowly sat up which made Max move. Roxanne stood up, smoothing out her surprisingly unmaim ensemble. She was sure she had ruined it during her escape from reality but it was still in tact. Wish she could say the same for her hair and face. But Max thought she was beautiful no matter what. As nice as it was to see Roxanne in her hair and makeup, he would much rather have the girl she fell in love with her bare eyes, uncovered mole, and wild hair. Her natural beauty is what was the most breathtaking. Roxanne took his hand and led him out of the bandstand, grabbing a blanket from a small chest to the side, taking him by surprise. “I’ve spent many nights here, I like to keep blankets here for warmth.”

“Where are we going?” He questioned, looking back at the structure as they dove deeper into the woods.

Roxanne looked back at Max and smiled, “We’re going to have a prom all of our own.” She didn’t say anything else until they came to an open field. The only thing that was there with them was a bed of grass with a lake where the moon homed its bright reflection and the stars glistened from above. The only sound around them was the sound of the small breeze and cicadas in the distance. She let go of his hand and laid the blanket down for them to sit on later on. Staring up at the sky, Roxanne let the moon reflect in her eyes. Her face glowing with the illumination of the moon’s light. She looked back at Max who was staring up at the sky as she was. Just seeing how peaceful the sky could be when they were alone. Most of their alone time was spent in a garden during the day, so having the evening alone was an urge of freedom.

Max looked back at Roxanne, bowing and holding his hand out in a request to dance. One eyebrow rose as he glanced up at the auburn bombshell before she courtesy back to him. Taking his glove-clad hand, Roxanne was immediately pulled close to Max making her blush deepen on her cheeks. Together they danced under the moonlight, skating to the rhythm of their own music. The clique, Cinderella story they played out was enough to distract Roxanne from her previous troubles. It was almost like Max paid attention to the movies she constantly made him watch with her.

The Goof dipped her back in a somewhat romantic way yet it just led to the collapsing of the two. One loud yelp and one screech and the two were on the ground together. Another eruption of laughter rumbled between the two of them as they laid together under the stars. Max looked over to Roxanne, eyes glowing as he looks at his girlfriend. In impulse, he reached forward clasping the inside of her neck to bring her into for their first kiss of the evening. Roxanne could feel herself melt along side him. Everything just felt right when they laid side by side. The illumination of the moon was their only light to see each other. Nothing ever felt so pure and intimate in their lives together until this moment. For once, Max initiated the first move, bringing her under his embrace. Roxanne pulled at his jacket, knowing that it had to be a pain. Not to mention it was in the way of where she wanted to touch him. Their tongues rolled around each other in a slow, zealous interlock as Roxanne’s hands tickled up his untucked shirt. One hand snaked through her auburn tresses as the other slipped down her curvy waist. Small nips and licks added to the simplicity of their kisses. One leg peaked through the long slit of her dress, snaking through his legs to pull their hips closer, resulting in a mutual purr from the two of them.

One swift shift and now Roxanne was on top, straddling the boy with a magnetic pull to his hips. One hand grabbed his own, linking them together as one. The heat radiating from their palms touch was enough to send a contrasting chill down Roxanne’s spine. Then she stopped. Max looked up, puzzled as to why she would pause their makeout session. His lips parted ready to question if something was wrong but Roxanne only smiled. Max let out a small sigh as he stared lovingly at the love of his life.

“I love you, Max.” She whispered, leaning forward to nuzzle her nose against his own.

His smiled tenderly back at her, leaning up to lay a small kiss onto her own muzzle. “I love you too, Roxanne.”

A small crinkle of her nose and a giggle echoed throughout the night as they opened the next step into their relationship together under the moonlight. @little-goof

#「 ɪғ ᴡᴇ ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ's ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴏᴏ ғᴀʀ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ▒ ✥ ˚ main verse. ┛#「 ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ▒ ✥ ˚ drabbles. ┛#jeebus #i hope it isnt trash #lol ofc it is

5 notes · View notes